Sundown (3 page)

She never thought the sound of a man’s laughter sounded so appealing.  It started low and throaty until the chortle escaped his lips, turning deep and guttural.

“Why so funny?”

“Bella.
”  He unwittingly uttered a childhood name, one her father cherished.  “It seems you have me at your disposal, at least until the morning.”

Overcome with relief, she was thankful he
was not
going to abandon her to the dark and its wilds.  The surprising realization made her heart flutter, and she sighed at the notion.  Though they were complete strangers, she felt
as if a most peculiar bond irrevocably drew her to him
.   

On impulse, she raised her hand, letting her arm slowly trail his stubbly neck until she reached his chin.  She felt him tense beneath her touch, yet she continued, feeling the clear-cut lines of his square
jawbone.  Cupping the side of his jowl, she felt the lean muscles in his jaw flex, suggesting a stubborn streak. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I – I wanted to see you.  If not with my eyes then so be it with my hands.”  She stammered surprised by her own admission.  “Do you mind?”

“At your leisure, Miss Gentry.” 

Mustering enough courage, she continued ever so lightly, touching the outline of his generous mouth.  Full and supple his lips warmed against her fingers, slightly parting.  For a heart-stopping moment, she felt him lightly nudge the palm of her hand, gently nipp
ing her fingers with his lips.
She slowly let her index finger trail the bridge of his aquiline nose until she reached the arch of his brow.  Brushing the back of her fingers against his forehead, she caressed away the furrow at his temple not realizing the extent of her intimate perusal.

“Woman.”  Luke whispered hoarsely.  “If you continue in this fashion I promise you will not walk away unscathed.”

Feeling like a fool, she closed her eyes. 

What had gotten into her? 

The man was an outlaw, the scourge of civil society.  No proper woman would dare consider consorting with a fugitive.  Even still, she
could not
push away the fancy image
she had
c
reated
in her mind
of him
.  Shameful, and a little
shaken, she whispered
. 

“You’re
beautiful.”

Not even a warning
and
i
n one powerful swoop, he pinned her beneath his massive shoulders, the pressure of his rock-hard body melding against hers left her feeling breathless.   

“Have you ever been with a man?”

She breathed in his powerful scent.

“No.”

“Do you want to be with this man?’

“Yes.” 

“Why?”  He asked, nearly growling.

Arabella thought for a moment, too mortified to answer.  She was nearly twenty-five, and still untouched.  By a cruel hand of fate, she
had
never experienced her rite of passage into womanhood. 
Already considered
an unmarried woman
past her prime, she was desperate to
feel like
a real woman. 
How could she tell him her deepest
most aching
need
?       

“Tell me.”  His voice crooned against the hollow of her neck.  “I’ve stolen from you, threatened your life, and now you want me to ravage your innocence?”

“I trust you.”

“Trust me?
”  He scoffed.  “
H
ave you lost your mind? 
I am
a lowlife criminal, run
ning from the law.  If I had to, I would’ve
kill
ed
you without pause.”

“Perhaps.”

“I’m no fool.”  He whispered, his breath hot against her lips, he tasted sweet and earthy.  The sensation wrought shivers down her spine.  “You want me to be
him
, your rebel lover, don’t you?”

At that
point,
in time
, the past and the present came together as one.  To her, it mad
e no difference whether he was the
ghost from her past, or a living and breathing outlaw who grasped her mind like no other.  All she wanted was to feel
alive and wanting
like a woman.

“Would you do that for me?”

“God help me, but I’m willing.” 

“And so am I
.”

There was a long pa
use as if he contemplated
the inevitable.  Waiting
eagerly, she felt his hand caress
upwards until his
skilled
hand reached the apex of her inner thighs. 
Feeling her pulse quicken, a sense of sheer excitement overtook
her
. 
Unable to control her yearning, she moaned
with
wanting beneath his hard frame
.
 

“Make me a woman.” 

“M
y woman
.”  He whispered.

Arabella
heard the gentle
intonation
in his voice, the subtle way
he had
marked her as his territory.  In her giddy mind, sh
e almost wanted to believe
she truly was his woman. 

Holding her breath, she
stiffened
as he slowly slid his hand beneath her bodice, cupping her breast.  She felt the heat of his mouth as he aroused her nipple twirli
ng an artful tongue as she
wreath
ed longingly beneath his hardened
body.  He was touching her in a manner
she had
never dreamed could happe
n between a man and a woman. 
Set on fire, she felt like she was going to explode with wanting him. 

“I-I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

Suddenly, he grasped
her hips and pressed himself
against her with an alarming need.  She could feel his urgency as he shifted
his weight.
  Hovering above her, he paused while his throbbing shaft rubbed against her thigh.

“Do you feel that?” 

“Yes.” 

“I
s this
you want?”

“Please
.”  She gasped.

It was the longest few seconds
she would
ever experience.  If the sound of silence could tell all truth, she was certain her i
nnocence left him in turmoil. 
Yet, she knew he wanted her.

“Forgive me.”

Before she could fathom his regret, he plowed into
her with a full force passion
. 
The
pain was instant, yet brief, and for
a mome
nt, he was still.  Then slowly
he
began to move, a wicked rhythm, which soon, she followed. 
Their tempo grew wild with frenzy until she felt as if each star in the heavens came crashing down. 
L
ost in the tumult of her passion, she heard him cry
out
,
seemingly dying the same slow death as he
, floating
upwards, hovering,
and
sated.  The serenity
was unspeakable, incomparable. 
Then
in that moment
she h
eard his voice, constricted,
hoarse, and painfully quiet. 

“Look what you’ve done.”

“What did I do?”

“What no other wom
an has ever done.”

She
heard the defeat in his timber voice. 
He then whispered
warmly against her ear. 
“You’ve marked me
.”

Grabbing her fingers, he easily forced her to touch the boundaries of his face.  Once more, she felt the same contours of his unmistakable features, but this time she felt strangely dissatisfied.

“I want to see you.”

“I’ll not make you an accessory.”

“Aren’
t you a bit
too late?”  

His voice returned to normal.
 
“Miss Gentry, behave.” 
 

“It’s not enough.”

“
It must do for now.”  He returned
, losing his patience.  With one powerful swoop, she was helpless in his arms.  No match for his incredible strength, she waited while he pulled her skirts back down over her hips.

“You’ve no idea the dangers you’re putting yourself in.”

“You’re leaving me, aren’t you?
”

“I am.”  He said, touching her face, he tugged on the bandanna, making
sure the blindfold was secure.

“You knew all along, didn’t you?” 

“Knew what?”  He struggled with his voice.

“
I’d never see your face
.”

Though she
could not
see him, she could sense his
disquiet.  She waited as he slowly mulled over her accusation.  Finally, he returned quietly.

“That’s not fair.” 

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

He
did not
answer.  Instead, she felt his warmth as he drew her near.  His iron-like arm melded around her waist, and she felt him rest his chin atop her head.  He
stroked away the wet hair
matted against her face and kissed her forehead.

“Yes, it’s true.”  He
sighed.  Clearing his voice, he
continued.  “You’re in danger by associating with me and I’d rather not see one hai
r harmed on your head.  If
I were a decent man living an ordinary life, I’d drag you to the nearest preacher
and if necessary
, kicking and screaming.”

“
I think you’re
a decent man.
”

“Impossible.”  He groaned, pushing her away.  “I’d never be able to give you a valid name.”

“
I’ll find you.”

He chuckled at her
bravery and then fell silent. 
After a long moment,
he suddenly turned strained. 
There was an edge to his voice as if he knew something she did not.   

“Even if you did
my standing would never change. 
I would
still be a wanted outlaw with a noose waiting for my neck. 
You are
a good woman.  You deserve so much more, a white house with a picket fence, a handful of children at your feet and a decent man to warm your bed.”

Arabella wan
ted to tell him he was wrong. 

She wanted to believe h
e had no idea
the influence she had to
help
him out of
his
trouble
s
. 
Then reality crept in, and grabbed
hold of her conscience. 
De
ep down she knew he was right. 
With that thought, she
silently cried herself to sleep
.

T
he next morning,
she
found herself alone
.  Indeed, the outlaw had deserted her. 
She wan
ted desperately to believe
he was coming back for her, but once midday arrived, her hopes had dwindled. 

Standing on a small knoll, she turned at least a dozen times in every direction.  There was absolutely nothing, as far as the eye could
see
.  All she had to
survive was
a small lake and a cop
se of trees, and the sense
God gave her to stay put, and wait for rescue.  She trudged back to a nearby tree and sat dejectedly in its shade.  Still gripping his bandanna in her hand, she lifted the material to her mouth and breathed in his faint scent.  Instantly, she imagined the night before.  She shivered, remembering the heat of his probing mouth, his gentle hand caressing her breasts and the wondrous sensation of soaring among the stars.

Coming to her senses, she stared down at her chafed wrists.  Rubbed raw she almost wanted to laugh. 
At least he was thoughtful enough to unbind her wrists before abandoning her to the wild. 

She heard it then, against the wind, the faraway pounding of horse’s hooves.  With heart racing, she jumped to her feet.  A few hundred yards away, a lone rider cantered toward her with an extra mount in tow.  She could tell by the lazy way the man rode in the saddle he
was not
her outlaw lover.  Disappointed, she waited warily as the rider drew near, wondering if she should trust the stranger at all.