Rebellious Bride (23 page)

Two bright red spots suddenly colored Jonathan’s cheeks.

Lil continued issuing orders. “I’ve emptied my vanity, so we’ll move that first. I’d like it by the windows. We’ll move the chair and table that currently occupy that area and arrange them elsewhere.”

“Have you discussed this with Lord Sherborn?” Jonathan asked, considering his lordship’s reaction to her decision.

“Discussion isn’t necessary,” she assured him. “The furniture will get moved one way or another.”

“You are the lady of the house,” he said, confirming for himself her prerogative to make such a decision, “though I suggest we send for two cowhands to move the furniture, leaving us both free to rearrange your garments.”

“Not a bad idea,” Lil agreed. “I’ll empty the bureau drawers while you collect the help.”

~~~

Rolfe watched Jonathan, trailed by two cowhands, go past the open study door. He assumed Jonathan found their services necessary and returned to his paperwork, disregarding the matter. He had spent the morning down by the corral in discussion with his ranch foreman over the purchase of a prize bull. The decision to acquire the animal had been mutual. The bull’s strong stock would add considerably to the cattle production. He had returned only moments ago to complete the paperwork for the purchase and delivery of the bull.

Two more cowhands slipped past the door, whispering as if in deference to their surroundings. Rolfe found it difficult to ignore the presence of four cowhands upstairs in his private quarters.

He shoved his pen into the inkwell and was about to push his chair back to stand when a sound much like thunder exploded from upstairs and rattled the entire house.

Rolfe took the stairs two at a time, his first thought of Lillian.

“You can handle a cow, but furniture is out of your realm of expertise?” Jonathan reprimanded a heavyset man who looked strangely at him while scratching his beard.

“It’s just a slight nick,” Lil said, rubbing the tiny spot where her wardrobe had collided with Rolfe’s when the men had set it down. “A bit of polish will hide it.”

“What’s going on here?”

The four cowhands froze at the sound of Rolfe’s stern voice while Jonathan looked at Lil.

Lil smiled pleasantly. “I’m moving.”

Rolfe’s body tensed. “Where?”

“Here,” she said, spreading her hands out to indicate his room.

“Gentlemen,” Rolfe said and looked from one to another in slow succession, “you are dismissed.”

The cowhands hurried to leave, giving Rolfe a wide berth as they past him and scurried out the door. Jonathan acknowledged Rolfe’s order with a nod and, once out the door, closed it quietly behind him.

“Explain yourself, madam,” Rolfe said, moving into the center of the room and taking in the changes in a hasty glance. His wife had integrated her furnishings and belongings with his. Her vanity table with all its bottles, brushes, pins, and ribbons stood by the window in place of his chair, which now resided beside the fireplace. Her wardrobe hugged his, and his bed lay strewn with her undergarments while her bureau stood against the wall opposite the hearth, its drawers open wide.

“It’s simple. I’ve moved in,” Lil said and went on to explain. “Here in the West, married couples share a bedroom.”

“Am I to understand that you wish to share my bedroom at
all
times?”

Lil answered with a quick yes. Her eyes strayed appreciatively up and down the length of him. He wore tight denims and a white cotton shirt, the three top buttons open. His dark hair, unrestrained, swept along his collar. He looked, without a doubt, like a rough cowboy.

Rolfe didn’t miss her blatant assessment of him and attempted to ignore her roving eyes. “The reason?”

“As I said, married couples in the West—”

Rolfe shook his head slowly. “No, Lillian. I want the real reason you’re moving into my bedroom.”

Lil could have gone on and on about married couples and one bedroom, but she didn’t. She gave him the answer he sought, the truth. “I like being close to you.”

“And?” he asked, wanting more from her, much more.

“I like sleeping in your arms.”

He continued to push. “And?”

Her boldness took over. “I like it when you touch me.”

“And I like it when you touch me,” Rolfe offered in return.

She walked toward him, then surprised Rolfe by walking right past him. He smiled when he heard the key turn in the lock. She walked past him again, shut the connecting door, and turned that key as well.

Rolfe remained where he was, not flinching a muscle.

That was not to say that his insides hadn’t reacted, not by a long shot, especially when Lil reached up and pulled the pins from her hair, letting it tumble in a riot of waves over her shoulders. She didn’t stop there. With deliberate slowness she undressed. Garment by agonizing garment, she stripped her clothes away, dropping them around her bare feet until she drew the last garment off and stood stark naked.

Rolfe’s breath lodged somewhere in his throat. He had never imagined marrying a woman who would strip herself naked in front of him. But then, he needed to remind himself that Lillian was no ordinary woman. And he was bloody well glad she wasn’t.

“Your turn,” she challenged.

“You’re shameless, madam,” he teased and unclasped his belt buckle.

“I can always put something back on,” Lil said with a smile that verged on wickedness. Before Rolfe could protest, she grabbed her bib apron and pulled it on over her head, tying the strings behind her back.

Rolfe liked her devilish tactics. He hurried out of his clothes, and just before he removed his last garment she turned around and leaned over the bed, pretending to search for something, presenting him with a delectable view of her naked bottom.

His eyes appreciatively scanned her bare backside, the white apron strings teasing her firm, round cheeks. He shook his head over her audacity, dropped his last garment to the floor, and walked over to her.

He came up behind her, slipped his arms around her waist, and pulled her flat up against him. “It’s my turn to tease.”

Torture.
The thought rushed through Lil’s mind only minutes later. He didn’t tease; he tortured. He started at her neck, kissing along the base while his hand traveled to her buttocks, cupping her taut cheek. His kisses moved along her shoulders, and his hand... Lil sucked in her breath when his hand parted her legs and slipped between them to tease and torture her some more.

She pressed her head back against his hard chest and moaned in pleasure. His lips raced down the side of her neck, his tongue doing wicked things to her quivering flesh.

“Rolfe.” His name rolled off her lips in an aching moan.

With his hot breath brushing her ear, he whispered, “I want to nestle inside you, Lillian.”

She turned and lifted her head so her mouth almost reached his. “By all means... nestle.”

“Shameless,” he scolded softly.

“Only when it comes to you.”

Her response, issued with such soft sincerity, surprised him. Did she care so shamelessly for him that it could border on love?

His mouth sought hers, but before capturing it he teasingly queried, “What am I to do with you, Lillian?”

Lil’s lips rested a mere breath away from his, her whispered words fading into his mouth as she spoke. “Nestle, Lord Sherborn, nestle.”

Their mouths joined hungrily, each unable to taste enough of the other. Rolfe’s hand freed her of her apron. He picked her up and tossed her gently onto the bed, following her down. Gently spreading her legs with his knee, he lowered himself and entered her.

She welcomed him—all of him.

Time no longer existed; where they lay mattered not. They were lost in a world all their own. Slowly their rhythm began; they were in no hurry to spend themselves swiftly. Each wished to savor and enjoy. Their passion soon increased, and with it their rhythm. Harder and faster they rode, their bodies thrashing against each other, reaching for that glorious earth-shattering moment when time seemed to stand still.

Lil screamed out his name, clutching him to her, tossing her head back, and gasping for the breath her exquisite climax had robbed her of.

Rolfe joined her only seconds later, her name barely recognizable as it rolled from his lips in a loud, satisfying cry.

Minutes later he raised his head, surprised at hearing Lil giggle. “I’ve amused you?”

Lil shook her head, folding her lips in to prevent another giggle from escaping.

‘‘Then what, dear wife, do you find so amusing?’’

Lil’s bright green eyes sparkled with merriment. “Do you think the cowhands heard us?”

Rolfe lowered his forehead to rest against hers. His words teased, and his breath tickled. “Jonathan, the cowhands, and the bloody cattle couldn’t have helped hearing you scream my name.”

Lil gave as good as she got. “Oh good! I hoped I’d gotten the name right.”

He slipped off her, rolled her over on her stomach before she could protest, and delivered a whack to her bottom.

“Ouch!” Lil yelled, though truthfully she had hardly felt it.

“Your tongue, madam, needs controlling.”

Lil raised herself up to lean on her elbows. “I guess I’m a sorry lot for a wife.”

“You have your finer qualities.”

“Like?” She almost purred like a well-fed kitten when his hand roamed across her backside.

“Like your bottom. It is lovely to look at and heaven to touch.

Lil flipped herself over. “And the rest of me?”

Rolfe laughed heartily. “You will never cease to amaze me.” And he never wanted her to. Lillian made life exciting, complicated, and downright worth living.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

“Let’s see,” he said, surveying every inch of her naked body with his eyes and then placing his hand on her breast. “Let’s start with your sensitive nipples.”

Late afternoon settled in, bringing with it darkening clouds that promised Little’s first snowfall of winter.

Rolfe, at the urging of his wife, arranged for a light meal to be spread out before the hearth in his bedroom. Lil wore his black silk robe, and he wore his brown velvet one. The polished teakwood chest that usually sat at the foot of Rolfe’s bed served as their table, and pillows cushioned their bottoms. The blazing fire bathed them not only in its light but in its radiating warmth as well as they munched on an array of cheeses, meats, and breads. A bottle of aged white wine Rolfe had brought from England with him quenched their palates more than adequately.

“When will your brother arrive?” Lil asked, having just been informed of Evan’s impending visit.

“Not for several months. Evan spoke of business deals needing his attention and estate matters to settle. I imagine we’ll see him in the spring.”

“Is he like you?”

“More reserved.”

Lil laughed, placing her wineglass back on the chest.
“More
reserved?”

Rolfe grinned at Lil’s response, remembering his older brother’s penchant for proper decorum. “Evan believes most strongly that a lady should behave appropriately.”

“Oh, dear, I doubt he’ll find his sister-in-law acceptable.”

Rolfe picked up the piece of cheese Lil was struggling to reach for and held it out to her. “I’m sure if you make an extra effort, you can conduct yourself in a manner befitting a well-bred lady.”

Lil loved to listen to his refined and articulate speech. It was so very proper and so very sexy. She leaned over the chest and took the offered cheese from his hand with her teeth, nipping at his fingertips.

The reprimand Lil expected didn’t follow. To her delight Rolfe simply licked his nipped fingertips.

“Tell me about Evan,” she said, hoping that in learning of Evan, she’d learn more of Rolfe.

“Evan behaves admirably at all times. He always does what is expected of him. He never strays outside the proscribed lines of comportment.”

“What was he like in his youth?” Lil asked.

Rolfe’s laugh brought a smile to Lil’s face. She didn’t like it when he frowned or appeared troubled. It disturbed her to see him upset.

“Evan was a prankster in his younger years. He would devise plans unsuitable for young gentlemen, and persuade me to take part in them. It never failed. I would get caught, and naturally, it being unmanly to tattle, I would suffer the punishment.”

“You don’t sound as though you minded.”

“I didn’t,” Rolfe said with a gentle, almost undetectable shake of his head. “His plans always involved fun; swimming naked in the pond on the estate, stealing the fresh-baked pies from Cook’s cooling bench, sampling Father’s port and cigars, climbing the large oak tree beside the servants’ quarters to watch the young upstairs maid, Molly, dress or undress. Then as we matured to young adults we would visit the gambling dens together. Drinking and...”

Rolfe caught Lil’s eyes. They sparkled with amusement.

“We have willing women in the West,” she clarified for him.

“Proper ladies don’t dis—”

Lil didn’t allow him to chastise her. “Finish telling me about Evan. When did your relationship with him change?”

Rolfe looked at her, perplexed. “How did you know it changed?”

“You’re as readable as an open book. Your face gives you away. You frown and cast your eyes downward, and your whole face weighs heavy with your thoughts. But tell me, when did the relationship change and why?”

Rolfe shrugged; his memories troublesome. “Family responsibilities. My father became ill. It was necessary for Evan to take over the management of the estates.”

“Didn’t you help?”

“Evan wouldn’t let me. He insisted it was his responsibility, him being the elder son. He told me to have fun, enjoy my life. As I said, he believes in behaving accordingly.”

“It sounds as if he grew stuffy and old before his time,” Lil said, pouring herself and Rolfe more wine from the nearly empty bottle.

“An adequate description of his personality and one that prevented him from finding a suitable wife.”

“You mean no woman wanted to marry him.”

“No woman acceptable to Evan.”

“I can’t wait to meet him,” Lil said and raised her glass, “to your brother, Evan, and his visit to the West.”