Texas Moon TH4 (17 page)

She cried in earnest now. Every humiliating day of her last pregnancy returned with a clarity she couldn't escape. The nausea, the dizziness, the sympathetic looks and shamed silences, followed by the swelling, the gradual bloating until she was certain she resembled one of the hot air balloons she'd seen at the fair. Would Peter do like Ellen's husband, look at her in disgust and go elsewhere for his needs?

She cringed when his hand slid down her arm. Surely he couldn't want to do that again so soon? Even Stephen had waited awhile before forcing his attentions on her again. Oh, Lord, but she remembered now how often he had taken her that night. Her whole body shriveled up with the memory. She hadn't been able to walk the next day. It had been a good thing her family hadn't been home. Of course, if they'd been home, it never would have happened.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you, Janice. I didn't mean to. It's just been so long.... Damn." He let her go when she cringed.

She could tell that he was lying flat on his back, taking up most of the bed. She ought to say something. A wedding night wasn't supposed to be like this. There was something wrong with her. She had always known it. Stephen had told her so when she had cried and asked him to stop. Now Peter would be just as disgusted. For Betsy's sake, she had to do something to show him everything was all right. But even for Betsy's sake, she couldn't force herself to roll over and touch him.

Janice shoved a corner of the sheet in her mouth to stop crying. The place between her legs ached, but not with any real pain. She just felt hollow, and very aware of where he had been. She had better get used to the idea of having children. She didn't think Peter Mulloney was the kind of man to give up when confronted with a little resistance. He would be back again tomorrow night, if not again tonight. And she would bear his children. That was what she had agreed to do when she had accepted his ring in front of witnesses.

The pretty words of the wedding ceremony just disguised the ugly truth of marriage. With the placement of that ring, the man owned the woman, could use her body when and as he willed, and in exchange for his protection, she must bear his children. It would make much more sense if the preacher would just say that and make it clear.

They both must have finally given into the exhausting emotions of the day and slept, for the sun crept in the window when next they became aware of each other.

Janice woke to the burning furnace of her husband's broad chest against her back and his muscular arm wrapped around her waist. When she tried to wriggle loose, his grip tightened, and his male parts pressed along her posterior. She went rigid immediately.

His hand caressed her breast. "We need to learn what brings each other pleasure, Jenny. Do you like this?"

She didn't like anything. She wanted out of this bed, and she wanted out of it now. Panic careened down her spine and spread through her veins. She gritted her teeth and nodded her head in a blatant lie.

"Good, because I like it too. You have a beautiful body, Jenny. There's this lake back at the ranch. It's crystal blue and you can see clear to the bottom of it. And there's this little waterfall that trickles into it in summer and pours in spring. I want to see you standing there naked in that waterfall, Jenny, your hair wet and streaming all down your back, your breasts glistening with water. If we're lucky, we'll have time to do that when we get there. I'm going to make love to you in the grass and sunlight, the way nature meant it to be."

The soothing sound of his voice completely disarmed her. The image he created was the first erotic thing she'd ever heard in her life. She could picture the lake and the waterfall, but she couldn't picture herself naked. She couldn't picture him at all. But she still liked the image and the way his voice made her feel.

But he couldn't leave the image just to words. His hand played with her breasts, making her very conscious of an odd sensation between her thighs, as if the two places were somehow connected. He seemed to know it too, because he slid his other arm beneath her to continue the caressing while his hand slid proprietarily to the place that tingled.

She wanted to stiffen but couldn't. She ached and tingled inside. He pressed his finger into her and she arched against it until it slid deeper.

"That's it, Jenny. That's the way I want you. Look at how your breasts have swelled for me. Look, Jenny. It doesn't hurt to look."

Peter moved his arm beneath her breasts and pushed them up until she couldn't help but glance down. His arm was brown and covered with black hairs and contrasted vividly with the pale smoothness of her breasts. She had never really looked at her breasts before. They did seem to be alarmingly round and full and the tips were flushed and extended into hard points. When her husband's thumb brushed against one, an intoxicating rush swept through her middle, and her hips surged against his finger again. Her eyes widened as they stared down at where Peter had his hand.

"I want you, Jenny. I want to be inside you again. But I don't want to make you cry. Will you let me try again, or shall I stop?"

He was giving her a choice! Amazement flooded through her. He was asking, not demanding. She could feel the thick length of him pressing between her legs, knew the muscular strength of the arms wrapped around her. He could force her with ease. They both knew it. But he wasn't taking that advantage.

"Could we wait?" she whispered. She knew he was hoping that if he asked, she would say yes. She ought to say yes. He was her husband and her duty was to say yes. But just this once, just once, she would like to feel that she really had a choice.

He kissed her temple and reluctantly moved away. "Will you tell me sometime why you cried? I won't be able to stay away from you as much as you might like. I'd like to make it easier for both of us."

He was actually climbing out of bed. Janice was so surprised that stupidly she turned over to watch him. She saw a good deal more than she was prepared for.

There was enough light in the room to see the muscles bunch in his back and buttocks as Peter stood up and brushed the hair from his eyes. He was tanned down to the line of his trousers, and she stared at the tight muscles below his waist. And then he swung around to look down at her when she didn't answer, and she was confronted with the swollen male part of him. She backed hurriedly against the wall.

He had put that inside her? Her eyes widened in disbelief and she continued staring even when he hastily reached for his trousers and drew them on.

"Janice? Are you all right? You did say you'd been with another man before, didn't you?"

He seemed more anxious than angry, and she didn't know whether to nod her head or shake it. She just suddenly realized that she was as naked as the day she was born, and she jerked the sheet up around her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean... How..." She couldn't get the words out. She didn't think she'd been embarrassed in years, but now she stuttered like an adolescent. She watched as he gingerly tucked himself inside his trousers. He didn't attempt to fasten them entirely, and her gaze was distracted by the dark swirl of hairs disappearing into the V beneath his trouser band.

He leaned one hand against the wall and gazed down at her in puzzlement. "You weren't a virgin. Janice. How could you not know how men are made?"

She averted her eyes. "Please, I don't think I can talk about this."

He tipped her chin up until he had captured her gaze again. "We're going to have to, but not right now. Feed me one of your bountiful breakfasts, and then I'll ride out to face the Hardings and get that money I need. Then we'll have all the time in the world to learn about each other."

"Money?" She watched as he crossed the room, evidently meaning to wash before he dressed.

He stopped in the doorway and looked back. "Money." He straightened and shoved the hair off his forehead. "I told you. I need money to buy that mountain. I'm down to my last red cent. I'm hoping the Hardings will loan me what I need."

Janice felt her cheeks lose color.

"The Hardings haven't got any money. They spent every last penny on buying that government land, and the bottom fell out of the cattle market. Their bank is likely to go belly up any minute."

Chapter 14

Peter stared at her, uncomprehending. "Belly up?"

"Broke." Janice jerked the sheet tighter around her as she looked for something decent to pull on. "Everyone is. People began fencing their lands so the herds couldn't range free. Those cows need a whale of a lot of land to range. So like everyone else, the Hardings had to start buying that government land they'd been using for nothing. Then they had to buy fencing. The Double H was lucky to have a free source of money in the bank, but when the bottom fell out of prices, they couldn't pay back the loans. If they borrow any more, they'll be tapping into the funds of little old ladies and schoolteachers like me. Jason won't do that."

His wife's pragmatism had a way of taking the starch out of him. The desire that had been burning so heatedly just moments before rapidly died. What she was saying couldn't be true. The Double H was the richest spread in this part of Texas, everybody said so. And the Hardings owned a damned bank. There had to be money there somewhere.

Peter watched her reach for a wrapper. He took a deep breath. "I still have to talk to them. It would be simpler if I could get the money here. Time is running out."

He turned and left the room. Janice's hands trembled. Surely he hadn't meant what he said about not having a red cent. He was a Mulloney. Mulloneys had more money than anyone could possibly spend in a lifetime, Daniel had told her so. Not having a cent probably meant something different to Peter than to her.

She washed in the cold water in the washbowl, pulled on a wrapper, and went to the kitchen to start breakfast. Now that she was married, her only responsibility should be the house and the children they didn't have yet. Her husband could worry about the money situation. That was the way it was supposed to be. She didn't want to worry about where the next meal came from anymore. That was the reason she had married.

Peter would have to hold up his end of the bargain. She didn't see any reason why they should own a mountain of gold. She would be quite content with just a house of her own.

He entered through the back door, clean-shaven, with flecks of water still glittering on his face and chest. Without a word, he picked up his clothes and returned to the bedroom to dress.

Janice felt the tension in him, and it multiplied the anxiety eating at her. She told herself not to worry, but she had spent a lifetime worrying. She didn't know how to break the habit.

When he came back, fully dressed and looking the part of a wealthy financier again, she wanted to ask him why he couldn't just wire Daniel for the money. Instead, she set a plate of sausage and biscuits in front of him and made small talk about the kinds of clothes she should pack. She hadn't figured out how to fit into the mold of wife yet. She had this vague idea that wives didn't question their husbands about finances. She didn't want to insult Peter this early in the game. She would just have to hope he knew what he was doing.

"If we're coming back through here for Betsy, you don't need to pack your warm clothes yet," he answered absently. "Just take whatever you need to be comfortable right now. We'll be traveling light this trip."

She could tell his mind wasn't on the conversation. She wanted to ask him how broke was one red cent, but she didn't have the courage. She was strong, and she had her own opinions about many subjects, but she had never learned to intervene in other people's lives.

Tight-lipped, she poured more coffee and brought him a piece of hot sweet bread. She had coated it in honey and pecans left from last fall, but he didn't seem to notice.

He cleaned his plate and went to the dishwater in the basin to wash the stickiness from his hands. "I shouldn't be long at the ranch. I'll check at the stage office to see what times they leave. Will you be all right out here?"

He looked over his shoulder at her. It was a perfectly ridiculous question, but Janice rather liked the concern behind it. It had been a long time since anyone had showed concern for her.

"I have more than enough to do," she reassured him. "Go on and get your business done."

He dried his hands, caught her shoulders when she turned to pick up a pan on the stove, and pressed a kiss against her temple. "Thank you," he murmured into her hair.