For the next few hours, the newlyweds with Anna between them mingled and accepted congratulations. Colt noted how at ease Regan seemed meeting everyone. She laughed, shook hands, listened attentively to everything folks had to say, and genuinely charmed her way from one side of the crowd to the other. To his amazement, she even hiked up that fancy gown to toss horseshoes. And of course, she threw ringers, which made the onlookers roar.
“Quite an interesting wife you have there, Colton.” He turned from the horseshoe contest to see Colleen Enright standing beside him. “Can you imagine your Adele conducting herself so—so crudely?”
“Regan isn’t Adele, and there’s nothing crude about tossing horseshoes.” He watched Regan hit yet another ringer. More cheers rang out. Standing by the pit, Anna clapped happily.
Colleen’s voice dripped with disdain. “She’s standing in the pit in her stocking feet. No lady does that. I would’ve made you a more cultured wife.”
He refused to respond. Instead, upon noticing his sister waving to him, he said, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to collect Regan and Anna. I see Spring and Lacy have brought out the cake.” He walked away.
When her husband came to collect her so they could cut the cake, Regan was a bit saddened. She loved pitching horseshoes and she’d had fun bantering with her competitors and the people watching. Stepping out of the pit, she brushed the sand from her stockings and stepped back into her shoes. Only then did it occur to her that she may have embarrassed him with her unbridelike behavior. His dark eyes, always watchful, revealed nothing. Anna who hadn’t strayed far from Regan’s side asked, “Can you teach me to play horseshoes?”
“Sure can. When do you wish to start?”
Anna looked to her father, who replied, “How about we eat cake first and talk about horseshoes later?”
She nodded enthusiastically.
Regan took one of Anna’s small hands, Colton took the other, and they joined the crowd heading to the final event of the day.
Chapter Six
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many pies,” Regan said as she and Colt entered the house after everyone had gone home.
“Neither have I. Lacy must’ve had every woman in the Territory contribute.”
The wedding cake wasn’t large enough to feed everyone. To make up for the lack, there’d been dozens of pies of every variety and size. When those gathered had their fill, the reception began breaking up and people said their good-byes to the newlyweds and headed home. Spring offered to take Anna with her for the night, which pleased the child to no end, even though her father looked conflicted. With Ben away, this was the newlyweds’ first opportunity to be alone as man and wife. Regan didn’t know what the rest of the evening would entail. Since speaking his vows, he’d offered nothing in the way of affection, which she supposed was to be expected. As he’d pointed out, theirs wasn’t a love match.
“So, shall I meet you in your room—my room? I assume you’d like to get the consummation taken care of.”
Again, the watchful eyes. Again, she couldn’t tell what he might be thinking. She did know he wasn’t as stoic as he appeared. Her walk to meet him at the bower had knocked him to his knees just as she’d predicted.
Colt had no idea how to move the evening along. Yes, he wanted to seal the marriage, but the awkwardness he felt was so uncharacteristic, he felt like a man who’d never been with a woman before. “I’ll come to you in a few minutes.”
After she departed, he stood alone in the silence and drew in a deep breath to calm his nerves. The idea that a good women might have urges in ways that mimicked a man was something he still found hard to believe. Everything he’d been taught in medical school and in life contradicted her claim. Good women did not have urges. Yet, he couldn’t deny his own. All day he’d wanted to brush his lips over her throat and inhale the intoxicating scent of her perfumed warm skin. The saucy smile she’d tossed his way made him want to taste her mouth and fill his hands with her hips while he languidly guided those yards of silk up and down her thighs. He wanted to press his erection against her so she’d feel what she did to him. Willing himself to remember he was a man of discipline and not one to be driven by base desires, he went to join her.
When he entered the room, she said, “I need help getting out of this gown.”
“That isn’t necessary.”
“What isn’t necessary?”
“That,” he said, gesturing vaguely her way.
“Aren’t we consummating our vows?”
“Yes.”
“But I’m not to remove my clothing?”
“Good women don’t remove their clothing.”
After giving him a studied look, she asked, “So, I’m supposed to lie back, lift my dress, and let you rut away?”
Scalded by her bold manner, he somehow managed to say, “That’s usually the way it’s done.”
“Then let’s do something unusual because I don’t want the gown ruined.”
Chin raised, she walked to him and turned her back. “My buttons, please.”
Colt hesitated. He took in the line of fabric-coated buttons trailing down the back of her gorgeous iridescent gown and her cool eyes trained his way over her shoulder. In them he saw anger tinged with hurt. The latter gave him pause, but rather than muse over the cause, he complied with her request. The undoing revealed the back of a thin shift dyed to match the color of her gown. When he finished, she stepped out of his reach and faced him. Eyes simmering, she pulled her arms free of the gown and let the silk swish to the floor.
His heart pounded at the sight of her brown legs encased in gossamer-thin white stockings, and the jewel-encrusted garters. As if bent on causing him more havoc, she took hold of the shift’s hem and slowly pulled it up and over her head. She may have tossed it aside, but he wasn’t sure because he was too busy trying to breathe. The sapphire corset dipped low over the tops of her breasts, accenting the tempting heart-shaped swells and drew his eyes down her slim torso to the matching ribbon-edged drawers hugging the tops of her thighs. He thought she gave him a smug smile, but it vanished so quickly he chalked it up to his imagination. He watched her sit on the edge of the bed and remove her shoes. Lying back, she made herself comfortable. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
Colt hesitated. A part of him was appalled by her brazen behavior, while other parts wanted to tear off the tempting corset and have her in every way imaginable. He removed his coat and laid it on the chair with her gown.
“When I was in medical school I had a friend named Artemis James. Night after night while the rest of us pored over our books, Artie was visiting cathouses.” He removed his cuff links, set them aside, and folded up the sleeves of his white shirt. “After his visits, he’d come back and regale us with tales of his adventures.” By the look on her face, he could tell she was wondering where the tale was heading.
“In addition to feeding our young male fantasies with his salacious details, he also reminded us that a wife would never be as uninhibited as the women he visited.” Colt sat on the edge of the bed. “And I believed that . . . until you.” Surrendering to the urge to touch her, he used the tip of his finger to slowly trace the swells of her breasts above the corset. When her breath caught, he leaned over and placed a fleeting kiss first against her lips and then base of her throat. Inhaling the faint remnants of her perfume, he husked out, “You’re a scandalous wife, Regan Carmichael Lee.”
He straightened and savored the heat he’d kindled in her eyes.
“I know,” she whispered with a smile.
Unable to manage his need to touch her, he traced her sassy lips and kissed her again. “Do you wish to have a scandalous husband?”
“Yes.”
“Open your corset for me.”
Holding his eyes with a boldness that made his erection harden further, she opened the series of frogs one by one and placed her hands behind her on the mattress to brace herself. He eased the halves apart grazing the dark tips of her nip
ples in the process and heard her breath catch once more. Leaning in he took one into his mouth, enjoying both its hardness and the tiny moan that slipped out, before turning his attention to its twin.
Regan no longer cared that her marriage wouldn’t be a love match if he planned to treat her to this kind of bed play. His mouth, touch, and voice were turning her into a human bonfire. The slide of his hands, the tiny nip he placed on her collarbone, the way he watched her react as his palm traveled up her thigh only added more fuel. His finger circled her nipple, before he bit it gently.
“Am I seeing to your needs, Regan Lee?”
His use of her married name was as seductive as his touch.
“You have to say yes, or no. I don’t want to be neglectful.”
But before she could respond, he slid two fingers wickedly into her heat through the slit in her drawers and her hips rose in response to his beguiling rhythm.
“Yes? No?”
“Yes,” she choked out. The heat intensified.
“You’re very wet,” he whispered. “Another sign of a scandalous wife.”
He kissed her, seeking her tongue while his fingers continued their play. Her legs parted wider of their own accord and he deepened the kiss, searing her, sliding his tongue over the fullness of her bottom lip. Her gasps of pleasure rose in the silence. He played, plied, and touched until she found herself on her back, twisting and moaning in shameless uninhibited delight. “I’m going to shatter.”
“Are you sure?”
She whimpered.
“Then let’s make it memorable.” While his fingers continued to drive her mad, his thumb began dallying with the throbbing little kernel at the center of her thighs and her hips rose for more. Granting her unspoken wish, he leaned down, flicked his tongue against it, sucked it in possessively, and she shattered, screaming his name.
After coming back to earth, Regan opened her passion-lidded eyes to see him smiling down. He slid a finger over her still damp nipple. “Memorable?”
She struggled up. “Very.” Wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine, she wrapped her hand around the hardness protruding from within his trousers and implemented some plying of her own. He hissed, closed his eyes, and she savored the reaction. She boldly undid the placket and once he was bared to her touch, she savored his warmth and hardness as well.
Colt knew he was close to losing control, and that a few more passes of her small wicked hand would send him over the edge, so he backed away, his eyes glittering with desire, and removed his clothing. Nude, he joined her on the bed and pulled her into his arms. She was such a sensual delight, it came to him that he could have relations with her every day for the rest of his life and he’d still want more of her kisses, her scented skin, the feel of her nipples in his mouth, and the damp heat between her parted thighs. Unable to exist a second longer without having her, he eased himself into her flesh. She was so tight, he almost broke there and then. He lifted her hips to increase their pleasure. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder he began to move. Yesterday he’d been appalled to learn she wasn’t a virgin. Now, as she met him measure for measure, he was glad she wasn’t. Her inner muscles tightened deliciously, and he knew he’d died and gone to heaven.
“Come for me, Colton Lee,” she whispered seductively, running her hands down his damp back and over the rise of his slowly pumping hips. “Show me how scandalous you really are.”
The wanton invitation sent him over the edge. The power and speed of his strokes increased until he exploded with a roar. Moments later, she cried out her own completion and together they rode out the storm until collapsing onto the tangled sheets.
For the rest of the night, they consummated their marriage in ways that left them both breathless and dazed. Finally sated, they stripped the bed of the sodden sheets, he pulled her into his side, dragged the quilt up for cover, and they slept.
The following morning, Regan awakened slowly. Her disorientation from being in a strange room soon fled as she remembered, but then realized she was in the bed alone. Sitting up, she listened intently for sounds of his presence. Hearing only silence, she wrapped the quilt around her nudity and went to seek him out. She hadn’t been given a tour of the house, so she didn’t know who slept where. After placing her ear against the closed doors she took to be bedrooms, searching the small kitchen, and peeking through the windows of the parlor and dining room to see if he might be outdoors, she realized she was alone. Disappointed, she padded back to the bedroom hoping he’d left her a note or some other clue that might indicate his whereabouts, but found nothing. Had he ridden off to a medical emergency? Had last night been nothing more than a legality and they were now back to business as usual? Refusing to believe the latter, she chose the former and decided to wash up and dress.
The kitchen presented a problem. The stove was ancient and outdated in comparison to what she and her family cooked on at home. It would probably take it an hour or more to heat up enough to fry eggs and bacon—if she knew where the food was kept. After a short search, she discovered an equally old cold box outside on the back porch. Inside was a plate of sliced beef, so she took some along with some bread she found, made a sandwich, and called it breakfast. Sandwich in hand, she surveyed the parlor and dining room with its tons of furniture and wondered how much say she’d be given in putting her own stamp on the rooms. She glanced up at Adele’s portrait and asked, “Was this your furniture or did you inherit all these stuffy old pieces?”
None of it looked modern and as she’d noted before, the furniture hadn’t been polished in quite some time. Polishing it would give her something to do, but again, she didn’t know if there was polish or rags in the house or where they might be kept. She also didn’t wish to incur Ben’s wrath if it turned out to be something he didn’t approve of. Regan liked being busy. Sitting in the house alone with nothing to do would drive her batty. She contemplated riding the borrowed mare over to Spring’s place to spend the time with her and Anna, but she didn’t know the way there well enough yet, and she didn’t want to chance getting lost. With any luck, her husband would return shortly or Spring would ride over with Anna. She wasn’t anxious for Grizzly Ben’s return though. Being stuck in the house with him wasn’t something she longed for, so to pass the time, she returned to the bedroom to unpack her trunks.
An hour later, she had nearly everything opened but no place to put or hang the bulk of her items. The small wardrobe held fewer than half her gowns and shoes, and again, she wished she hadn’t brought so much. There were day dresses and denims on the bed, face paints, hairbrushes, and combs piled atop the vanity. Hat boxes were stacked beside the wardrobe and the trunk holding winter garments like her coats and heavy sweaters hadn’t even been opened. Wondering how she was going to make it all fit, she was standing with her hands on her hips surveying the chaos when she heard footsteps and Anna’s voice call out, “Papa?”
Grateful for the company, Regan left the room to greet her.
Upon seeing Regan, Anna asked, “Is Papa here?”
Not wanting them to know how disappointed she felt upon finding him gone, she replied lightly, “No, honey. I believe he’s at his office in town.”
As if aware of Regan’s feelings, Spring looked concerned. “No problems being here alone?” she asked.
“No. Spent the time unpacking my trunks. I may have to move the bed into the hallway though to make it all fit.”
Anna and Spring followed her to the room and Anna looked around in awe. “You have a lot of things, Miss Regan.”
“I know. Any idea on where I’m to put everything?”
“No, ma’am,” she said still eyeing Regan’s possessions. “Maybe Papa and Granpa Ben will let you move into Grandma Isabelle’s room.”
Regan looked to Spring for an explanation. “It was my mother’s room, but has been closed up since her death.”
“Adele didn’t use it?”
Spring shook her head, giving Regan the impression that there was a story ti
ed to Adele’s decision, but she didn’t ask in case it was something Anna shouldn’t hear. “Is it larger than this one?”
“Much,” Spring said. “My mother loved her comforts. You might want to ask Colton about it when he returns.”
“Okay. In the meantime, I’ll just muddle through.” She turned to Anna. “Which room is yours, Anna? May I see it?”
“Yes. Papa is next to you, and I’m on the other side.”
Regan followed Anna and Spring out to the hallway. Her room was even tinier than Regan’s. It held a bed, a wardrobe, and a nightstand. There was nothing that showed it to be the bedroom of a little girl. The walls were plain, the curtains beige, and a brown rug with frayed edges lay beside the bed. Regan didn’t see any toys and wanted to ask if she had dolls but didn’t. “This is a nice room, Anna.”
“Thank you.”
Regan noticed the sketch pad and pencils on the nightstand. “You draw?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“May I see?”
Anna handed her the book and Regan viewed the pages. Many were renderings of animals: a fox, an elk, birds. The drawings were rough and looked like they were drawn by a six-year-old, but all the subjects were recognizable. “These are very good, Anna.”
Anna then showed her the one she’d drawn of the two of them holding hands. “This is you and me.”
An emotional Regan eyed the two stick figures and leaned over and kissed her brow. “May I keep this? I want to frame it and place it on the wall in my room.”
“Truly?”
“Yes.”
“Aunt Minnie doesn’t like for me to draw, so I only do it at home.”
“You can draw for me anytime. Will you hold on to this until my room is ready?”
She nodded.
Regan saw the displeasure on Spring’s face at the mention of the old woman and Regan agreed with her silent assessment. Regan glanced around Anna’s room and wondered if Colt would allow her to brighten up the space. When Regan was young, Aunt Eddy let her paint a sun and clouds on a wall of her bedroom, and she still remembered how much fun it had been. She wondered if Anna might like to do something similar. Regan would also ask him about replacing the drab bedding and drapes with items a bit more cheerful.