To Wed a Wanton Woman (11 page)

Train sat next to her and pulled one of her
feet into his lap. With his thumb, he made circular motions along her instep.

“Hell, you two don’t need me chaperoning
this trip,” TJ said, brushing the dirt from his denim. Within moments, TJ had
his horse saddled and ready.

Giving Marion a wink, he said, “I’ll put
your belongings in the same room you used when you were out for the wedding.” He
glanced at Train. “How outspoken should I be? I don’t want to get in your
business.”

“Say what you want,” Marion said. “It
doesn’t matter. I don’t require discretion.” It was true. In most instances,
her language was too rough for some men.

He asked Train, “Where do you want me to put
your bag, in the shack, or the house?”

 “The shack. The House.” Marion and Train spoke
in unison.

“You’ll find your stuff on the porch,” TJ
said, pulling the horse’s reins. “Tell me tomorrow who wins this one.” He shot
off in a cloud of dust.

Train looked at Marion’s wide smirk. TJ was
mistaken. They did need a chaperone. Now that there was a wager between them,
he could see Marion was going to be ruthless, cunningly clever. He wondered if
making a bet with her was a wise idea.

“How am I going to win the bet if you don’t
sleep in the same bed with me?”

“Exactly, I aim to win even if it means I
don’t see you for the next week.”

“That’s cheating!”

“You would know.”

“Are you really going to stay away from me
for the whole week?” She sounded worried.

He shook his head ruefully. “No, and I’m
already regretting the bet.” He put one stocking back on her foot and then the
other. He looked up to see her watching his hands as he retied the laces of her
boots. “I sleep in the shack, but you’ll have the days to tempt me with your
wiles.”

“I suppose that’s fair. It’ll give me time
to play a little poker and check out the men.”

Scalding fury blazed up his spine, and into
his face. His nostrils flared. He leapt from the blanket. With his jaw clenched,
he couldn’t move his mouth to speak.

“Train,” she nervously laughed. “It was a
joke.”

He stalked to the horse trying to calm down.
He knew she had spoken with levity, but it was crude even for her.

He heard her approach. She stopped directly
behind him.

“I don’t want anyone to know you’re a whore
at the homestead.”

She clasped her hands together. “I’m sure
they already know. I’ve been with some of the hands. Not Jack, but it isn’t as
if he doesn’t know. He came to see me. It doesn’t matter, at least not to me.
What about you?”

When he turned around his temper softened.
“Not to me either, but I can’t speak for anyone else at the ranch.”

“You, Allison, and TJ, are the only people I
concern myself with. Everyone else can go to hell.” She stepped into his
outstretched arms.

He kissed the top of her head. “I don’t want
anyone getting the idea you’re available.”

She looked up into his face. “I guess you
forgot you paid in advance. I’ll be committed for a week.”

He ran his hand over her hair. “You’re not
committed yet, but you will be.”

“Confidence, one more thing I like about
you.”

He smiled. “You’ve made it very clear what
part of me you like.” He crushed his mouth over hers, sliding his tongue along
hers then slowly releasing her. “I’m looking at this wager all wrong.”

She hummed in the back of her throat as he
kissed her again.

“Better to look at this week as foreplay.”

Chapter Six

The house was dark when Train walked Marion up the front porch steps. His bag sat as a reminder that he wouldn’t be staying
with her. She stopped walking. A chill in the night air caused her to shiver. A
clear indicator fall was around the corner. “Cold?”

“Couldn’t you stay with me tonight?” she
asked, glancing over her shoulder.

He hesitated before opening the door for
her. He put his finger in front of his lips to signal quiet. Adjusting the lamp
always left by the front door, he allowed only enough of a flame to find their
way.

Marion
laced her fingers with Train’s, leading him to the bedroom where she would be
staying. Neither spoke until the door closed.

“I’ll get water.” Train took the pitcher and
went to the kitchen. Allison had fresh bread under a towel on the cutting
board. Taking the knife, Train sliced off several thick pieces and wrapped them
in a separate towel. With the pitcher in one hand and the bread in the other,
he went back upstairs. Using his hip, he pushed open the door.

“Let me help.” Marion took the towel from his
hand and peered inside. “Mmm, looks good.” She greedily took a bite, then held
the bread up for him.

“I’m starving,” he said, setting the water
on the dresser. He turned around and held her fingers while taking another
bite. “I saw some apples on the counter.”

“I’ll get them.”

“No,” he said with a mouthful of bread.
After he swallowed he said, “Wash up and change. I’m sure you’re eager to get
in bed and smell the pillows.”

Her eyes narrowed, but a smile played on her
lips.

Back in the kitchen, Train took an apple in
each hand. Remembering TJ kept his whiskey in the cupboard, he grabbed a bottle
and a cup and tucked them under his arm. When he returned to the room, Marion was only partially dressed.

The smile fell from his face when he saw her
reflection in the mirror. She wore only bloomers and a sheer chemise. Train
could see the dusky centers of her breasts through the thin, wet material. He
set the apples on the bed, never wavering his gaze.

Water dripped from the cloth as she finished
washing her neck and chest. “I saved you the last piece of bread.”

He opened the bottle. “I thought you might
like a drink.” He poured for himself and downed the amber liquid. The whiskey
burned as it traveled to his stomach. He wasn’t sure if drinking would fortify
him against Marion’s assault on his desires—damn, but her wanted her—or if it
would make him foolish and lower his defenses.

“You’d be right.” Marion tried to shrug off
the intense feeling of anxiety in the pit of her stomach. Being with Train now was
different from before. The underlying tension between them built, knowing
they’d be together for an extended period. Marion ran her fingers through her
hair. Her scalp tingled from remaining in a braid for too long.

“Would you like the glass?”

She took the bottle and tipped it to her
lips. “Nope.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Isn’t necessary.”

Train sat on the edge of the bed, kicked off
his boots, and pulled off his stockings.

Marion
took the wet washcloth and rinsed it in the bowl. Twisting it tightly, she
wrung the water out. “Train.” She stepped between his thighs.

When he looked up, she put the cloth on his
neck and began washing the day’s ride from his body with slow, firm strokes. She
worked her way up the side of his face, combing his sideburns with her
fingernails after she scrubbed them. Dimples at the sides of his mouth caused her
to smile as she wiped his mustache and beard. Unable to resist, she bent over and
placed her lips against his.

Train rested his hands on her hips.
Tenderly, his mouth glided under hers. Nothing about the kiss was rushed or
bruising. “Sweetheart,” he said when they parted.

His endearing word gave secret pleasure.
Never had a man shown her the satisfaction a kiss could give. Her stomach
flipped as she thought about intimate activities with him, of having him over
and in her. If he could derive that much pleasure from a kiss, she staggered at
the amount of time and patience he’d show her when they finally made love.

“My stomach is too unsettled to go to bed,”
she said, placing the washcloth next to the pitcher.

“Once you lay down, you’ll feel how tired
you are.” He pulled back the blanket for her to slide beneath the covers. Train
blew out the lamp and let his trousers fall to the floor. Climbing into bed
beside her, he didn’t protest when she snuggled up against him. He wrapped his
arms around her shoulders and held her close. Finally, the fatigue of the day
overcame their reckless thoughts and they slept.

* * *

Train stretched and reached across the bed
without opening his eyes. Forcing himself to recognize that is was indeed
morning, and Marion was already awake and out of bed, was easier said than
done. Now he’d have to face TJ and Allison, where as he’d hoped he could slip
out the front door without notice.

Marion
sat at the table when he joined the trio a few minutes later. TJ straddled a
chair turned backwards watching Michael attempt to shovel oatmeal into his mouth
with a large spoon.

“Hungry?” Allison asked, setting a cup of
coffee in front of an empty chair. “Sit,” she instructed.

Train sat down across from Marion. He gave
TJ a chastising look, knowing he was struggling to keep from laughing.

“Have you lost the bet?” He snorted as a
peal of laughter rang through the room.

“Stop it, TJ.” Allison pressed her lips
together tightly.

“You told them?” he questioned Marion. “Is nothing sacred to you, woman?”

She shrugged. “I felt I owed an explanation
for our sharing a room.”

“We won’t be tonight!” Train’s chair grated
across the floor. “I’ve got work to do.” He put his cowboy hat on and stomped
out the back door.

“You two are mean,” Allison said, wiping Michael’s
hands. “Train has a soft heart and you stomp all over it.”

Marion
grunted. “Nothing about Train is soft with me.”

TJ choked on his coffee. “That is my cue to
leave.” He wiped his mouth on a napkin. After kissing Michael on the forehead,
he pulled Allison into an intimate embrace. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

Marion
asked, “Where will Train be today?”

He stopped and grinned. “Around.” With that,
he went out the door.

“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”
she asked Allison.

“That the lines of battle have been drawn.”
Allison shook her head. “I don’t know who to support. If you win, Train loses
again.” She got a far away look in her eyes.

“What happened between you and Train? I know
you were close. The day after your marriage, down at the stables, I could tell
by the way he looked at you.”

Allison sat across from her. “TJ made me
crazy. When I thought he didn’t want me, I took advantage of Train. I used him
to make TJ jealous.” She reached across the table.

Marion
stared at their linked hands. Unfamiliar and uncomfortable emotions roiled in
her stomach. Why should it bother her that Train had once fancied Allison? By
the end of the week, she’d be back at the Dusty Rose and Train would be a
cherished memory. That thought too, troubled her.

Marion
squeezed Allison’s hand, then stood. “I’ll let you in on a secret. I don’t know
who to root for either.” She let Allison pull her into a hug. “He makes me want
to believe.”

“Give it a little more time and he’ll prove it
to you.”

* * *

Marion
nearly cried from boredom as she wandered around the house watching Allison
move from one project to another never giving herself time to relax. Michael
demanded much of her time, but Sissy seemed to come and go at will. “Do you
ever sit?”

Allison knelt next to Sissy’s bed tucking
the sheet under the mattress. “If you go down and make a pot of coffee, I’ll
take a break and have a cup with you.” While still on her knees, she sat back
on her heels. “I wish I could spend the day riding horses, or walking the
property, but I can’t.” She tossed her hands wide. “It isn’t easy taking care
of a house, kids, and a husband, but if I stick to my routine everything gets
done. Today I change sheets and do the wash.”

“I’d rather work on my back,” Marion said, disgusted. “If Train wants a wife to cook and clean, he’s going to be
disappointed.”

Allison’s mouth puckered. “Obviously you’re
considering marrying him. What if you win the bet?”

To her annoyance, Marion felt the beginnings
of a blush. She didn’t like the transparency of her feelings. She could only
hope Train wasn’t as observant as Allison. “Whether I win the bet or not, I
don’t want to be without him. I’m happy when we’re together.”

Allison stood and faced her friend. “I’d say
that calls for a little break in my routine.”

Allison made coffee while Marion folded and
unfolded a linen napkin lying on the table. “Do you know where he is?”

“I do,” she said, sitting across from her.
“He told TJ not to tell you. I don’t think he wants you distracting him from
his work.”