To Wed a Wanton Woman (15 page)

Marion
wore one of the dresses Allison had given her. She found a compromise in
attire. She didn’t like the stiff formal dress she wore on the day of the
wedding, but lightweight cotton felt surprisingly comfortable. She didn’t worry
about straps slipping off her shoulders or sweating in silks and satins. Much
of what lay on the floor in her room fell into the category of uncomfortable.
Of course, a few outfits she’d have a hard time parting with, articles she intended
to wear to seduce Train. A shame, she never got the opportunity.

Once in the restaurant, Cassie asked, “Is
there going to be services for Sandy?” She sucked noodles into her mouth.

“That’s up to her brother. I didn’t tell the
girls, but there’s a chance he’s going to put up a fight against the business.”

“What can he do?”

Marion
shrugged and took a sip of wine. “I guess we’ll know soon enough.”

“Know what?”

Marion
startled and stared as Train sat down next to her at the table. “Train.”

“You look surprised to see me.”

Marion
’s
heart raced. Train’s whole face smiled under his cowboy hat. She thought of
sitting on her hands to keep from throwing them around his neck. Oh, she missed
him. Not knowing what was going on inside his head nearly killed her.

“How’ve you been?” He took off his hat and
set it on the table.

“Sandy passed,” she said, wondering what
Train’s reaction would be. Whatever plans he had for them weren’t possible now.
She had responsibilities. “This morning.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Does TJ
know?”

“I didn’t know how to get a message to him. And
I wasn’t sure you wanted to hear from me.” She picked up her wine and finished
it.

“Maybe I should give the two of you some
privacy.” Cassie pushed her plate away.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Marion picked up her
silver clutch and sifted through the contents. Anything to keep her hands busy
and her focus from Train.

“You’re fine to stay,” Train said. “Marion
and I have got all the time in the world to talk privately.”

Marion
’s
eyes darted to his. “I’ve got responsibilities now. Whatever you might be
thinking, forget it. All bets are off.”

Train chuckled. “Don’t you want your prize?”
He seemed very pleased with himself.

Marion
felt herself blush. Since when did she blush? “I could use some cheering up.”

“Okay, that’s enough for me.” Cassie tossed
her napkin on the table. “I know when I’m listening to a private conversation.”

They didn’t try to stop her as she left the
restaurant. “I can’t leave,” Marion finally said.

Train slid his hand under hers, palm-to-palm.
“Do you want to?”

The silence seemed to take an eternity and
she wasn’t sure how long it actually was before she whispered, “Yes.”

“I’m on my way to Wyoming to pick up a
couple of mares. I’ll be back in, say, ten days. Come home with me.”

She watched his fingers entwine with hers.
“What about the girls?”

“I can’t take them all home.”

She found it impossible not to return his
smile. “Listen,
sweetheart
,” she said, mimicking the pet name he’d often
used with her. “I saw the way you looked at Cassie’s breasts.”

“They’re hard to miss.”

“I don’t care if she stands naked in front
of you--” She leaned in close. “It better be me your hands are on.”

“Possessive, I like it.”

“Damn right,” she said looking at their
linked hands. “Sandy died and now the brothel belongs to me.”

“I know you’re hurting. I also know there’s
a chance her brother is going to cause problems for you.” He joggled his knee.
“Come with me to Wyoming, otherwise I’m going to worry.”

“Why do you insist on protecting me?” She jerked
her fingers out of his hand.

He growled. “Because I love you,” he said
through clenched teeth. “A husband’s responsibility is to take care of his
woman.” His eyes darkened with the strength of his conviction.

Marion
blinked as she tried to organize her jumbled thoughts. Her eyes came to study
his face. Only naked truth reflected in his smoldering stare, and the thin
determined line of his lips caused her breath to catch in her throat. Undoubtedly,
if she refused his love, she would hurt him again. She would rather cut off her
own arm than cause him another moment of grief. The harder she tried to ignore
the truth, the more her heart persisted. Still she was surprised to hear her
own voice whisper, “I’ll marry you, right now.”

Train held Marion’s hand as they left the
restaurant. They walked a few blocks to the justice of the peace.

“Are you sure you don’t want a proper wedding?”
he asked her in the foyer.

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable.” She squeezed
his hand. “I’ve never looked good in white anyway.” She took a deep, steadying
breath. “Train,” she said. “Are you sure? Once you set your mind to something,
you do it. Rational or not, you don’t consider the consequences. Take a good look
at what you’re asking for.”

His gaze never left her face. “I haven’t been
able to think of anything else. You’re the one who said it first. We’re perfect
for each other.” He kissed her temple.

“For the record,” she said with a tone of
defiance. “This has nothing to do with the bet. Win or lose, I had no intention
of marrying you.”

“Marion, our home is finished. I have no
intention of leaving Copper City without you.”

The justice ushered them into the parlor
where he conducted the weddings. The walls were painted bright white. The dark
stained wood floor wasn’t softened by a rug or carpeting. Six wood slat chairs
sat in a row, three on each side of the plain, square table where the justice
stood when performing a ceremony. Sterile and practical, clearly the justice
wanted couples wide-awake and fully aware of where they were when he pronounced
them man and wife.

Train left his hat by the door and joined Marion before the table.

“Where are your witnesses?” he grumbled
while filling out the marriage license.

“No witnesses,” Marion quickly said,
sounding more as if she didn’t want anyone to know what they were about to do rather
than stating an overlooked necessity.

“You must have witnesses.” He did nothing to
hide his annoyance. “Wait here, I’ll get my daughter.” He returned a few
minutes later with a homely looking gal of about thirty. Thin and stringy, her
hair limply fell to her shoulders accenting her thick neck and wide shoulders.
“Do you have a ring?” His disposition was not improving.

Train slipped a ring off his pinky. Marion wondered why she hadn’t noticed it when they were sitting in the restaurant holding
hands.

She trembled as he slid the delicate gold
band with a small diamond onto her finger.

“Sign here.” The justice put a paper in
front of them. “Have a nice night.”

He shooed his daughter out of the parlor and
then stood by the door in an attempt to hasten their departure.

Train looked at Marion once they were on the
sidewalk in front of the justice of the peace. Marion slightly tilted her hand
in different directions watching the small diamond in her ring twinkle. His stomach
knotted when he put his hand on the small of her back to escort her back to the
brothel.

Once there she said, “What do I tell them?”
referring to the girls working in the brothel.

“Whatever you want.” Train stopped at the
bottom of the stairs leading to the bedrooms. “I’ll wait for you in the
kitchen.”

“Don’t you want to come up?” She looked
concerned. “I admit I’m a bit impatient. I’ve been trying to get you into bed
since the first day we met. Now that I have a legal right to you, I want all of
you.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Bet or not, I’m entitled to my
prize.”

“And you shall have it.” He pressed his lips
to hers. His grip on her hips tightened as his intention became serious. “Not
here,” he said, reluctantly pulling away. “Tonight we stay at the hotel.”

Obviously, she remembered the luxurious accommodations
because she quickly ascended the stairs leaving Train in the parlor. He wasted no
time getting to the kitchen.

He knew there had to be a bottle of
something with which he could medicate his anxiety. At some point tonight, he
was going to have Marion in his bed. He couldn’t help but wonder what standard
she would compare him to. Although not a virgin, he had very little experience
with women. Marion was an experienced woman. How would he compare to the others
she’d been with? He didn’t want to disappoint her.

The first shot he slammed, and then poured
himself another to sip. He took the tumbler into the office across the hall. The
door stood open revealing papers lying across the desk and creating piles on
the floor. Clearing a spot on the small sofa, he sat back and stretched out his
legs.

* * *

“What are you doing?” Cassie asked, standing
outside Marion’s open door.

“Trying to find the perfect outfit to wear
tonight.” Everything she owned looked like it belonged to a whore. “Why should
I have anything else?” she said to herself, throwing another dress on the
floor.

“Marion, you’re pale and that’s hard to do
with your complexion.” She came into the room and plopped down on the bed. “Can
I assume you’re frustrated by your cowboy? I could take him off your hands.”
She fingered one of the dresses on the bed. When Marion didn’t speak and
stopped tossing clothing around, Cassie said, “What?” and splayed her hands
wide while lifting her shoulders.

“He’s my husband.” She held out her hand for
Cassie to see the ring. Suddenly she wanted everyone to know she was married.

“Marion!” Cassie grabbed Marion’s hand,
nearly pulling her arm from the socket. “When?”

“After you left the restaurant.”

Cassie let her head fall back as she
laughed. “Does he know how insatiable your appetite is? Of course he does. Must
have been some night. Lord have mercy on him. Marion, a one-man woman? I don’t
believe it.”

“We haven’t done anything yet.” She smiled
in spite of herself. Who knew? Train had played her perfectly. Instead of being
mad about it, Marion was grateful for his resolve. Perhaps if they had been
intimate before, she wouldn’t be married now. Married, she thought. Mrs. Marion
Spencer, or would he want her to be called Mrs. Train, either way she was happy.
“When I told you I was retiring, it wasn’t because I planned to marry. I didn’t
know whether he’d come for me or not.” She sighed and sat back on her heels.
“Thinking about someone else’s hands on me makes me want to be sick.”

“I think I’m going to faint. She’s fallen in
love.”

Marion
stood with a dress in her hands. “I wouldn’t go that far. He’s downstairs
waiting.” She spread her hands to the room. “You girls can have it all. I don’t
want any of this ever again. I’m a wife now and I don’t want to remind my
husband that I was ever a whore.”

Cassie clutched the dress in her hand to her
bosom. “Take it slow, you don’t want to get bored after the first night.”

“Slow is his specialty.” Marion thought
about Train’s anatomy. His body with hard muscles, his rough hands, and his hot,
thick cock. “I might not look like a whore after today, but it’s going to take
quite a bit longer to stop me from thinking like one.”

“Let’s go find your husband.” Cassie followed
Marion out the door and down the stairs.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.” They walked toward
the kitchen. She stopped up short when she spotted Train sitting in the office.
With his cowboy hat still on his head, he braced his elbows on his knees and
rolled a glass tumbler between his palms. He glanced up at her when he heard
Cassie giggle. “I’m ready.”

Cassie looked over Marion’s shoulder.
“Congratulations,” she said. “Oh,” she covered her mouth. “It’s not a secret,
is it?”

Train looked at Marion for confirmation.

“Tell whomever you want,” she said, looking
into Train’s eyes. “I’m lucky he wanted me enough to marry me.”

He stood and took a step toward her. “Ready?”

She nodded and they left the brothel.

Chapter Nine

Marion
dropped her carpetbag by the front door. “This isn’t the same room,” she said
as she surveyed the décor.

“No, this is a single suite. We don’t need
two bedrooms.” He immediately went to the fireplace and tossed in a few pieces
of kindling. “Will you pour us drinks?” he asked with his back to her. The
dimly lit room offered too much intimacy too soon. Building a fire only
enhanced the romantic atmosphere along with heightening the anxiety he felt
deep in his gut.

Marion
handed him the drink while she sat beside him. “Train, why won’t you look at
me?” Putting her hand on his shoulder, she applied gentle pressure until he
faced her. “I’ve been as patient as I can.” Her warm, moist mouth descended
onto his. Threading her fingers through his sideburns, she turned his head and
slipped her tongue into his mouth. “If I have to take your hand and put it on
my breast, I will,” she teased while her lips still played against his. “I am
not going to be a good girl any longer.” She slid her hand over his thigh and brushed
the front of his trousers.