The Longing (23 page)

He laughed and got a face full of water that
he blinked and coughed away. “Only a few more yards, Amy.”

“I like it when you call me that.” She sank
down in the water, her face disappearing for a couple of tense
seconds.

Kyle grabbed her elbow and lifted her,
burning his precious reserve of energy. “If you do that again, I’m
going to hog the bathtub all night while you shiver on the
sofa.”

She looked pathetic grinning through blue
lips, but her eyes still sparked with determination as she slapped
her arms through the water. “That was just a trick to tire you out
before the last stretch.”

He laughed, enjoying her teasing, but his
chest filled with admiration when she clenched her jaw and put her
head down, flailing her way toward shore with admirable tenacity.
Kyle kept pace, but made sure he climbed onto the rocky bank behind
her, glad he was alive to worry about hauling buckets of water for
his amazing wife.

“Please tell me we aren’t far from home,” she
said, sitting on the shore in the sunshine with her head hanging,
her rib cage heaving.

He sat beside her. “Probably thirty minutes,
but I know a shortcut that will get us back faster.”

“Thank God.” She lifted her face and brushed
her dripping hair back. “The sun feels wonderful,” she said, her
eyes closed, her mouth parted and shivering.

In all his fantasies he’d never seen a more
beautiful woman, never imagined that a prim little teacher would
turn out to be his seductive, sassy wife. Droplets of water covered
her face and body, sparkling in the sun, tempting him to kiss them
off her skin.

“That was the most fun I’ve ever had in that
boat,” she said, then laughed and met his eyes. “You should have
seen your face, Kyle. That was worth every minute of the swim to
shore.”

He started to frown, but caught himself, and
realized he had truly enjoyed the adventure with Amelia. Though he
would have never guessed it, he liked her sassiness and her
challenges and the crazy things she said to make him laugh. The
uninhibited side of her personality intrigued him.

His gaze roved over her wet clothing. The
skin on her neck was speckled with goose bumps, her nipples erect
and visible through his old shirt that she’d started wearing to the
mill. A disk-like bump marked her rib cage and Kyle touched his
finger to the hard spot. “What’s this?”

Curious, she looked down and considered the
lump a moment, then sat up and dug something out of her deep
pocket. “I meant to ask you about these,” she said, dumping three
coin-like objects into his palm.

When Kyle saw what they were, he glanced at
her in shock. “Where did you get these?”

“From Papa’s desk. Why? What are they?”

His gut clenched and he felt sick as he
turned the pieces in his fingers, finally understanding where Tom’s
money had been going. “These are gaming counters,” he said, unable
to lie to her, but wishing he didn’t have to tell her. “They use
them at gambling houses in place of money.”

Her brows furrowed. “Why would Papa have
them?” she asked, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth,
understanding filled her eyes and her shoulders sagged. “Oh, my
God.” She pressed her fingertips to her mouth and stared at Kyle.
“You were right, weren’t you?”

“Maybe there’s another explanation.”

She shook her head. “There isn’t. I checked
his books for you.” She shivered and hooked her arms around her
drawn-up knees. “Jeb said Papa went to Philadelphia every few weeks
to see James Hale about the deck beam contract we have with him,
but he never said anything about Papa gambling.”

“If your father was spending his time in a
gaming hall he wouldn’t have told a soul. Not even Jeb.”

“Probably not,” she said, staring at the
water where she’d just lost her little rowboat. “Papa kept his
troubles to himself.” Her body trembled and she lowered her head to
her knees, looking so lost and hurt that Kyle couldn’t stop himself
from drawing her into his arms. She put her head on his shoulder
and hooked her arms around his waist, and for the first time in his
life, Kyle felt completely connected with another human being.

o0o

When they entered their woodshed twenty
minutes later, their clothes were still dripping wet and Amelia was
shivering. Kyle peeled off his shirt and tossed it over a stack of
firewood. He unbuttoned his pants and Amelia’s eyes widened.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping our floors dry.” Too cold to worry
about modesty, either his or Amelia’s, Kyle slid his pants and
undershorts down to his ankles, then stepped out of the wet
clothes. Amelia gasped and turned her back. Kyle grinned. “You can
undress while I get us some towels.”

Her gaze shot back to his before her eyes
registered his nakedness and she spun away again. “You’re enjoying
this, you skunk.”

He was. Absolutely. “Do you need help
undressing?” he asked, fighting back a laugh as she blindly swatted
at him.

“Get me a towel before I freeze to
death.”

Kyle laughed all the way to the linen closet
in the bathroom. He pulled out a towel, opened it up and wrapped it
around his hips. The next towel he opened was much smaller and he’d
nearly shoved it back into the cupboard before a wicked little
voice told him not to do it. He shook open the towel again and held
it up, estimating how much of his wife’s lovely body it would
cover. Not much by his guess.

Perfect. He tucked it under his arm and
headed back to the woodshed.

“Where are you?” he asked, scanning the
deserted room.

“Behind the woodpile and I’ll k-kill you if
you come over here.”

Kyle fought back a laugh. Typical woman. She
was freezing to death and was more worried about modesty than
survival.

“Here’s your towel.” He tossed it across the
woodpile.

“Thank you.” He heard movement, then a gasp.
“Kyle Grayson, this isn’t a towel, it’s a washcloth!”

Kyle bit his lip and counted to three before
he could speak through his laughter. “It’s the biggest towel I
have,” he said. “My towel is small, too.”

Her head inched above the woodpile and she
peeked at his hips. “We are ordering new towels from Agatha’s store
tomorrow.”

“Order whatever you like, Amy.” She was going
to kill him when she found out they had towels as large as a horse
blanket. “I’ll go put water on the stove for our bath.”

“Use the water I have heating for laundry.
I’ll do the washing tomorrow.”

“All right, but you won the first bath.”

“Well, I’m not coming out until the tub is
filled. That’s your job.”

Kyle shook his head and went to the kitchen.
He dragged the tub out of the pantry, filled it with hot water,
added enough cold water to make it comfortable, then headed back to
the woodshed.

“Are you still out here?”

“Y-yes. Please tell me the b-bath is
ready.”

What a goose she was! Before she froze to
death, Kyle marched around the woodpile, intending to drag her out
if necessary. Amelia shrieked and scrambled to close the towel
around her torso. Sweet God! Her slender legs looked a mile long
and Kyle’s gaze traveled from her ankles up every beautiful inch of
skin until the small scrap of towel hid what he wanted to see most.
His gaze drifted upward to the creamy swell of her breasts
partially concealed by blue fabric and the sash of her dark, wet
hair.

She huddled against the woodpile. “Turn your
back so I can go inside.”

Despite her discomfort, Kyle grinned. “Not on
your life.” He moved forward and Amelia shrieked again. His ears
rang, but the view, and Amelia’s expression when he swept her up
into his arms, was worth the pain.

“Stop! My towel is coming off!”

He glanced down. She wasn’t lying. Suddenly,
his own towel started shifting. He raced through the parlor and
into the kitchen, then plopped her into the tub, towel and all.

Amelia gasped and blinked water from her
eyes, still scrabbling to hang on to that damned towel. Kyle turned
away and checked the end of the towel he’d tucked at his waist, but
it was fastened securely. The movement of fabric had had nothing to
do with the towel coming loose.

He raked his hair back with shaking hands,
wondering what the hell he was going to do. He honestly couldn’t
stand the abstinence any longer. Especially after seeing Amelia’s
full breasts and those long, sleek legs and oh, God, just thinking
about her made his knees weak. Kyle cursed and looked down. His
goddamn towel was moving again.

In that instant it was yanked completely off
his hips and he stood with his bare ass facing his wife.

“I would suggest you return my towel,” he
said, knowing if he turned around in his current state of arousal
he’d ruin his chances of
ever
consummating his
marriage.

To his shock, Amelia giggled. “What an
interesting place for a birthmark.”

Kyle slapped a hand over his left cheek. He
hated that goddamn mark. If she said one word . . .

“It looks like a little turtle.”

Kyle held out his right hand. “Give me my
towel.”

“Can’t. It’s wet.”

“Then I might as well join you in the tub.”
He turned to face her and Amelia shrieked and ducked her face. She
huddled beneath both soaked towels while Kyle stood boldly before
her, waiting for her to open her eyes. She kept her eyes squeezed
shut and shoved a sopping wet towel at him. “Here. You can have it
back.”

“Too late.” He put his hands on her shoulders
and her eyes sprang open. “Hold your breath.” Before she could ask
why, he pushed her under the water to douse her hair.

She came up blinking and brushing water off
her face. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to wash your hair.”

“What?” She coughed and glared at him.

He glanced at the small shelf on the side of
the tub and picked up the most feminine bottle he saw. He sniffed
it then poured a handful of what he hoped was soap into his hand.
The second it began to lather he plopped it on Amelia’s head and
started kneading it into her hair.

“Kyle!” She hunched forward and gripped her
towel, giving Kyle a wonderful view of her completely exposed back.
She was submerged from the waist down, but the water was clear
enough for him to see the exquisite peach shape of her
backside.

“You don’t have a birthmark anywhere back
here,” he said. She swatted at him and he laughed, thoroughly
enjoying himself.

“Get out of here.”

He knelt beside the tub and massaged her
scalp. “Relax, Amy.”

“I would if you’d leave the kitchen.”

He wasn’t budging.

“Please,” she said, her voice close to
begging.

He sighed and rinsed his hands in the
bathwater as slowly as possible, brushing her back until she
squirmed away. Finally, he stood up, unashamed of his desire, but
he knew Amelia would keep her eyes downcast anyhow. “I’ll be back
in a few minutes with a dry towel for you.”

“Make sure you get one for yourself,
too.”

He snorted as he left the kitchen, but a
second later he tripped over the jutting rocking chair leg that
Amelia had moved into the middle of the parlor. He cursed and
limped down the hall, reminding himself why he hated the damned
rocking chair. He’d bought it for Evelyn. He’d built her this
house, furnished it for her, and offered her a life of security,
but she’d chosen his brother.

“Are you all right?” Amelia called from the
kitchen.

“I’m fine.” Kyle dug through the linen closet
until he found a large, thick towel for Amelia, and another one for
himself. After concealing his lower half, Kyle sat on the sofa and
let Amelia enjoy soaking in the hot water.

“Are you ever going to bring me a towel?” she
called, and Kyle considered telling her no, but he’d teased her
enough.

He took her towel to the kitchen and laughed
when he saw her shielding herself with the two towels she’d dragged
into the tub with her. “I’ll close my eyes,” he said, opening up
the dry towel and holding it like a blanket.

“Kyle Grayson!”

Kyle opened one eye and peeked at his wife’s
outraged expression.

“You gave me this...this
washcloth
on purpose!”

He grinned.

To his surprise, she laughed and stood up in
the tub. Water streamed down her bare skin as she let her tiny
towels fall into her hands. Kyle’s jaw dropped and his heart
careened into his ribs.

Amelia smacked him right in the face with her
sopping wet towels. “You rat!”

She tried to yank the towel he held in his
hands, but he swept the yards of toweling around her and lifted her
into his arms.

She gasped as he cradled her against him.
Water dripped off his hair and nose, but he lowered his mouth and
kissed her anyhow. To his shock, she didn’t protest. She put her
arms around his neck and kissed him back, the water from their bath
mingling with their kiss.

Just when Kyle considered carrying her to the
bedroom, she drew back. “You’re so fun like this. Thank you for a
wonderful day,” she said, and Kyle felt his heart swell. It
had
been wonderful. He hadn’t enjoyed himself this much
since he was a kid raising hell with his brothers.

Amelia had a terrific sense of humor and was
a good sport. She had a way of drawing him out, of tugging at him
until he responded. Despite her fear in the bedroom, she wasn’t
afraid to speak her mind, to stand her ground with him, and he
respected her for that.

“You’d better take your bath before the water
gets cold,” she said. “We have to leave for your mother’s party
soon.”

He didn’t want a bath and he didn’t want to
go to a damned birthday party. He wanted to lay Amelia on their bed
and make love to her, but it looked as though he would have to wait
a few more hours. But that was all he was willing to wait. He had
given Amelia time to get comfortable with him. He’d even laughed
with her. It was time to make her his wife.