Chasing Rainbows (33 page)

“Good. Because I want to take you to the fanciest restaurant in town and show you off.”

He offered her his arm and they left the hotel, stepping out into the street. The first snow of the season had begun to fall. Large powdery flakes drifted slowly to the ground, dusting the buildings and streets and crunching softly beneath their feet. There was a magic in the night that Annie could taste in the air. Horses and buggies moved past them at a leisurely pace, accompanied by the jingle of harnesses. Men and women strolled arm in arm, nodding politely to her and Jake as they passed. The night was filled with a rainbow of colors, ranging from the white, glistening snow, to the yellow glow of the lamps, to the inky black of the sky that hung above them. The brick buildings blazed like cinnamon, and the pines were an smoky jade against the mountains.

She would have been perfectly content just to walk and enjoy the night, but they reached the Golden Pheasant all too quickly. Jake opened the wide, intricately carved oak doors and ushered her inside. Annie was suddenly glad that they had come, for the room was like nothing she had ever seen before.

The restaurant consisted of one grand cavernous room, filled with the low murmur of conversation, clinking silverware, the bright ring of crystal, and the melodic drifting notes of distant music. Thick floor-length red-velvet curtains hung from the windows. The dark wood floors were polished to a sheen so brilliant Annie could almost see her reflection within them. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above her, reflecting the dazzling candlelight. Fresh white linens covered nearly every surface, and at each table sat a tall vase of wild daises. Waiters in black jackets rushed between the diners, moving with the highly skilled precision of dancers executing an intricate waltz.

Her gaze moved upward to study the remainder of the restaurant’s decor. A huge life-size portrait of a voluptuous nude reclining in opulent splendor caught her attention. The model sat on a chaise, surrounded by smiling cherubs with wings. The woman was graced with chubby thighs, a rounded tummy, generous breasts, baby soft cheeks, and pert rosebud lips. The model stared down into the crowd with the dark adoring eyes of a basset hound. Her legs were coquettishly crossed, but her back was arched, displaying her plump breasts to full advantage.

The portrait was repeated on each of the restaurant’s four walls. The woman’s face and body remained exactly the same, but her hair varied, depending on whether one looked north, south, east, or west. Glancing from wall to wall, Annie saw raven-black, rich chestnut-brown, fiery auburn,-and luminous golden-blond tresses. In a distinct territorial touch, heads of wild game, including bison, elk, bear, and antelope, were proudly positioned next to the paintings.

Her gaze traveled next to six men who were seated on a podium playing instruments. The music they created was unlike anything Annie had ever heard. It seemed to call for floating across a room rather than stomping around, like most dance tunes. The sound was rich and melodic, filled with measured beats and haunting crescendos.

Catching her gaze, Jake gave her hand an encouraging squeeze. “They’re playing Mendelssohn. Do you like it?”

She nodded. “If God ever decides to let me into heaven, I reckon that’s the music I’ll hear.”

A waiter appeared and showed them to their table. They dined on steamed oysters and tender lamb cutlets, creamed spinach, thick slices of broiled squash, quartered new potatoes delicately seasoned with onion and thyme, and chewy sourdough rolls. They drank a bubbly wine Jake introduced to her as champagne. Throughout the meal, Jake was an ever-attentive host, seeing to her every need, nearly drowning her with his devastating charm and appeal.

“You do anything special today?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Dulcie and I just toured the town. I reckon this place is almost as big and fancy as Denver City itself.”

Their conversation drifted this way and that, contrasting the town of Abundance with the cities back East. As soon as the dinner service ended, the waiters began clearing dishes and removing a few of the tables. The orchestra, which had provided background music until that point, rose a notch in volume, filling the restaurant with deep, swelling notes. On cue, couples rose and merged onto the newly cleared dance floor.

Jake stood and held out his hand. “Shall we join them?”

Annie hesitated. She knew a few polkas and jigs but not much else. “I don’t think I can, at least not to this…”

“Trust me, darlin’. I’ll show you how.”

She placed her hand in his and stood, walking with him to the dance floor. As the band began to play, the restaurant dropped its fancy airs and came alive, hooting and hollering like the mining town dance hall it was born to be. A pair of fiddlers joined the musicians and struck up one lively tune after another. The crowd square-danced and polka’d, two-stepped and reeled.

Annie’s favorite dance, though, was something called a Texas waltz. Her skirts flared full and sassy around her ankles as Jake guided her effortlessly through the waltz, pulling her tightly to him then spinning her around. He held her so closely it seemed almost indecent in public, but at that moment, Annie didn’t care. Her senses were swimming, intoxicated by the deep, masculine scent of his skin and the arousing feel of his body as he brushed up against hers.

“There,” he said, “waltzing isn’t that hard, is it?”

“No, it’s not hard,” she agreed. In fact, dancing came easy. Her feet moved almost effortlessly in time with his. What was difficult was breathing and talking while her head spun with dizzy excitement and joy flooded her limbs.

They danced as long as the band played, twirling around the cavernous room while the coquettish nudes smiled down on them, conferring their blessing. When the musicians took breaks, they sipped rich, dark coffee from fine china cups and nibbled on slices of chocolate cake. Annie was in no rush to leave. The night was a present she wanted to unwrap slowly and linger over.

When the music ended and they at last stepped out of the restaurant, Annie was blissfully content and gloriously happy. The snow had stopped falling, but the town was coated in a fine layer of glistening white dust. The street was quiet, the sound of midnight stillness broken only by the noise of a horse stomping its feet against the cold and the high, tinkering sound of a piano drifting out from a saloon.

They entered the hotel and went upstairs to their room. Jake pulled a sulfur match from his coat pocket, struck it against his boot heel, and held the flame to the wick of a kerosene lantern. Golden illumination lit the room. A breeze fluttered the curtain, and a gust of cold air filled the room.

“I must have forgotten to close it before I left,” Annie said, moving across the room to pull it shut. She glanced around. “Cat’s gone.”

“She’ll be fine,” Jake assured her, closing the door behind him.

She followed Jake’s gaze around the room as he stepped inside, wishing she’d thought to straighten up a bit before she had left for the evening. Boxes and tissue were flung this way and that, and the clothing he had sent her was strewn across her bed in random piles. He removed his hat and set it on a table, then went to the bed and reverently lifted a silky wisp of a camisole, rubbing the lacy garment gently between his fingers.

“Did everything fit properly?” he asked.

“Yes,” she managed, imagining his fingers on her skin, touching her the way he was touching that garment. The room seemed to grow almost unbearably hot and shrink in around her, so large and overwhelming was Jake’s presence.

He dropped the camisole and returned his gaze to hers. “You looked beautiful tonight, Annie.”

She smiled, smoothing her hands over her skirt. “Who would have guessed that I would end up wanting to dress as fancy as you?”

Jake closed the distance between them. “It suits you.” He lifted one of her corkscrew curls, weighing it in his palm, then his eyes moved back to hers. “Everything about you suits me, Annie.”

Annie felt her breath catch in her chest. Her heart was racing and a slight shiver ran down her spine. She was still amazed at what Jake could do to her with just one heated glance, one light touch. Even though they had been lovers for days, she felt that same thrill of excitement now as she had at their first kiss, that almost unbearable sense of longing, as though her world wouldn’t be right again until he pulled her back into his arms.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“You,” she answered bluntly. “The way you look at me.”

“Oh?” He arched one dark brow in a silent question.

Annie licked her suddenly parched lips and nodded, letting her words and emotions tumble out blindly. “Some men, well, they have a look like they just want to hurry through lovemaking. You can almost see what they would be like by the way they eat: shoving food down their faces like someone was gonna take their plate away. You don’t have that look, Jake. You look like the kind of man who takes things slow. Who gives a woman time. You make a woman feel special, beautiful. That’s a gift, Jake. Not many men are like that.”

A fiery, intense glow entered Jake’s eyes. “That’s not the way I feel, Annie. Not with you.”

“It’s not?”

“No.” He unfastened her cloak and tossed it over a chair. His own jacket quickly followed.

“How do you feel?” she asked. Jake didn’t answer. He was too busy removing her gloves, one finger at a time. Next he removed her bolero jacket, pulling it gently over her shoulders and down her arms. Annie waited for his reply, passively allowing him to disrobe her. “Jake?” she finally prompted.

“Hmmm?” he murmured, clearly distracted.

“How do you feel when you’re with me?”

He gently set her down on her bed. Her skirts spread out in a whoosh of wool and crinoline, fanning around her legs. Jake carelessly brushed the jumbled piles of feminine garments off the bed and onto the floor, then sat down beside her. “Like I’m an eager schoolboy again, and you’re the first woman I’ve ever bedded.” He brushed a golden curl aside and tenderly kissed her ear. “Like I’m a starving man, and you’re all cake and cream, and I want to devour you in one swallow.” He bent his head lower, trailing fiery kisses down the nape of her neck and across her collarbone. He glanced up, his beautiful gray-blue eyes shining with an emotion that wavered between passion and surrender. “Like you’re the sea, Annie, and I’m a drowning man.”

Her throat went dry. Suddenly she wasn’t much in the mood for conversation either. “You can rush if you want to, Jake.”

“No, I can’t. Not with you, Annie.” He kneeled down before her and lifted her foot, tenderly cradling it in his palm. “Where’s your hook?”

“My what?”

“Your shoe hook.”

“Oh.” Annie retrieved the small tool from her bedside table. “I’ll do it.”

Jake ignored her, taking the hook from her hand. Lifting her skirts ever so slightly, he cradled her foot in his palm as he slowly worked the buttons of her boot free. His fingers felt warm and strong, subtly arousing even through the thin cotton mesh of her stocking. As he removed one dainty boot, he lifted her foot to his mouth and pressed a light, tender kiss against the inside of her arch. Then he took off her other boot and kissed that foot as well.

Next he gently pushed up her skirts, baring her thighs. He untied the slim pink ribbons that held her garters in place and striped them from her thighs. He slowly rolled her stockings down, inch by inch, his lips following the path of his fingers. Annie trembled as she felt the weight of his head press against her lap. She threw back her head, digging her fingers through his hair, sighing with pleasure and longing. She heard herself gasp his name as his lips moved up and down her leg, nibbling and kissing the tender flesh of her inner thighs, her knees, her calves. Her muscles tightened, giving startled little leaps wherever his lips brushed her skin. She felt a rush of heat race to her thighs and a tight, fiery knot fill her belly. She arched her back and grasped his shoulders, whispering with an almost desperate urgency, “I don’t want to wait, Jake.”

“Easy, darlin’. Slow is better. Slow is much, much better.” Abruptly Jake shifted. Moving with lithe, easy grace, he pulled himself up onto the bed beside her. “Turn around for me, Annie.”

“Why?”

“So I can unbutton your blouse.”

“Shouldn’t we turn down the lamp first?”

“I want to see you.”

She bit her lip, uncertain. “Is that proper?”

“Probably not, darlin’, but let’s leave it on anyway.”

Whatever resistance she was about to offer faded like stars at dawn under the heat of his roguish grin. Annie nodded and turned, unable to resist his gentle coaxing. His fingers moved steadily along her back as he worked free the tiny, delicate buttons that lined her bodice. His lips tightly traced the column of her spine, then he eased the bodice off her shoulders and turned her around to face him.

Annie clutched the bodice against her chest, overcome by an alarming sense of modesty. Up until that moment, they had made love primarily in the dark, beneath the silvery beams of the moon or in the earthy glow of a campfire. Something about making love in a hotel room, their naked bodies moving in wanton abandon to the bright and shining glow of a kerosene lantern, seemed decidedly brazen and shockingly improper — rather like indulging in an apple-eating contest in Eden. At the same time, however, it was obvious that Jake truly did want to see her. With that in mind, she bravely let her bodice drop, her desire to please him far outweighing her newly discovered sense of propriety.

She held her breath as Jake’s gaze moved over her breasts. To her relief, she saw nothing but heightened pleasure in his gaze, combined with burgeoning desire and raw hunger. He lifted his hands and lightly cupped her breasts in his palms. Then he bent his head, his lips once again following the motions of his hands with light, loving kisses. Annie arched her back, giving him greater access. Her nipples stood hard and erect against his palms, straining against the sheer cotton of the camisole. That light, delicate cotton, which had earlier felt so smooth and soft, suddenly felt almost unbearably coarse against the heightened sensitivity of her skin.