But the fact was there, staring her in the face: She could make love with Damian now and not suffer a bit of guilt over it. She hadn’t asked to have it so. A rum-soaked judge had made it so. But it was so. And that knowledge was very hard to live with day after day, because having “permission,” so to speak, made her want to experience Damian’s lovemaking even more than she had previously.
In the town of Sanderson, Casey had another scare, which at least got her mind off her “marriage” for a while. She could have sworn she saw her father again, entering one of the local boardinghouses. She hadn’t seen his face, though. And really, anyone could wear the type of clothes that Chandos favored. Besides, it would be quite impossible for him to have traveled this far from Fort Worth by horse so soon—unless he’d been on the same train as she. And he hadn’t been on the train. There had been other horses riding the stock car with theirs several times, but none had been Chandos’s horse. She would have recognized him immediately.
Later that day, they came up with new information. A new town, barely a year old, had sprung up along an old trading route about a two-day ride north of the Southern Pacific tracks. The railroad didn’t have a spur line to it yet, though one was planned in the near future, since Culthers was growing so fast. It had its own schoolhouse already, three churches, its own town council and mayor.
The mention of a mayor had Casey and Damian heading that way, though it meant taking to the trail again. Also, the name alone, sounding so much like Curruthers, might have drawn their quarry in that direction. But, still worried that her father might be in town, Casey didn’t want to take any chances. So when she woke before daybreak, she sneaked into Damian’s room and roused him out of bed, and they more or less fled town then and there.
Damian, unexpectedly, complained. “You know, though I haven’t benefited too much from this ‘marriage’ of ours, you certainly have.”
Casey ignored him. Keeping to a slow, careful pace on the road, at least until sunrise, she had no trouble hearing Damian grumble again, “No, this temporary ‘marriage’ of ours hasn’t given me any benefits.”
He sounded so sour Casey was primed to argue, “What benefit do I have?”
“Haven’t you realized that, as a married woman, your father can’t drag you home or anywhere else, for that matter—at least not without my permission? Husband’s rights do take precedence over parental rights.”
Casey was grinning by then. “You know, that’s an excellent point. Not that I would dream of standing up to my father like that, especially since this isn’t a real marriage—but he wouldn’t know that, would he?”
“Not unless you mention it.”
“Yes, well, I’d just as soon not put it to the test, if you don’t mind. So why not stop complaining about missing a few hours’ sleep? We can make camp early today if you like.”
He didn’t stop complaining. She hadn’t really thought he would. He was just in a complaining kind of mood today, she supposed. But they did make camp early, and luckily, near a freshwater stream.
Casey had planned on suggesting forgoing a fire that night, just to be on the safe side. She’d stocked up on supplies that didn’t require heating, and the weather was quite warm. But Damian was so disagreeable she didn’t mention it. Then she spotted fish in the stream. Fried fish sounded too good to pass up.
She left Damian to see to the horses while she went off to whittle herself a fishing spear. She was standing knee deep in the stream, having caught only one fish so far, when Damian showed up.
“There’s an easier, more relaxed way of doing that,” he remarked from the riverbank.
She didn’t bother to look up, too intent on the fish that kept darting away from her. “I don’t see any string lying around handy—unless you’re of a mind to unravel one of them fancy shirts of yours.”
“I’m of a mind to wash the dust off. You won’t look, will you?”
Casey blinked. “Look?” Her eyes swung up to him, to see him in the process of removing his vest. “Now hold on. You can just wait on doing any washing until after I’ve finished catching dinner.”
“I’m too dusty to wait.”
“You’re going to scare all the fish away!” she shouted up at him.
“I’ll barely make a ripple,” he replied as he started unbuttoning his shirt.
“You’re crazy.”
“I’m dusty.”
She’d never heard anything so ornery-stubborn, but she could be just as stubborn. “Suit yourself then,” she growled, “but you’re the one who won’t be eating fish tonight if I don’t catch any more, not me.”
She refused to budge from the stream merely because the fool man was going to get naked. It didn’t make her no nevermind. She’d just keep her back to him and go about her business. But that was easier decided than done.
A few seconds later, he was in the stream. It was slowly driving her crazy, knowing that he was just a few feet away from her and buck naked. She could hear him splashing water on himself. No ripples indeed. Not that it mattered, because if she saw a fish just then, she wouldn’t have really seen it. Her mind, her whole body, was centered on Damian and what he was doing.
She tried moving inconspicuously farther upstream so she at least wouldn’t hear him. The water was colder there because it was deeper due to a debris blockage, but not freezing cold. She barely noticed the cold, though, her body had grown so hot.
And then she heard, right behind her: “Are you running away from me, Casey?”
She swung around in startlement. Damn, what a mistake that was, and too late to correct.
Damian had come up silently behind her. He was sunk down in the water, but he slowly rose up, the water slewing over his chest and arms as he did, glistening in what little sunlight remained, until his whole upper torso was revealed. And Casey was purely mesmerized by the masculine shape and contour of him. He was more muscular than she had imagined, his arms so thick, his hair-covered chest so very wide in comparison to a taut, narrow waist.
She hadn’t answered him, couldn’t even recall there had been a question, but he asked another. “Or perhaps you just decided on a bath yourself, up here where it’s deeper?”
She still wasn’t really hearing him, but she sure had no trouble seeing him, or feeling him when his finger came to caress her cheek and dribbled cold water down her neck. It was the shiver that followed that brought her out of her daze, if she could be said to be thinking clearly yet, which wasn’t exactly the case.
But she did hear “It looks like you need some assistance, though.”
Her poncho was lifted off her, and from the corner of her eye, she saw it sail through the air to land in a heap on the riverbank. Her gun followed and managed to land right on the poncho. It was seeing her gun thrown out of her reach that brought her out of her mesmerized state quite quickly.
“What are you—?” was as far as she got.
In truth, she did get the rest of that question out, but it was lost to anyone hearing it underwater. He had dunked her. He had actually pushed her under the water.
Casey came up sputtering in disbelief. She glared at Damian through a face full of wet hair, saw the grin he didn’t have sense enough to hide at the moment, and shot a palm stream of water in his direction. He gasped at the new coldness hitting him square in the chest, raised a brow, then dived at her.
Casey shrieked and leaped to the side, but the splash of Damian hitting the water full blast with his body completely drenched her again. By the time she got the water out of her eyes enough to see, she couldn’t find him. And then her legs were yanked out from under her.
It had been a long time since Casey had cavorted in a pool of water with her brothers, but she hadn’t forgotten how to “get even.” About twenty minutes later, Damian was calling for a truce. Casey was completely out of breath, mostly from laughing. Who’d have thought she could have “fun” with an Easterner? She certainly would never have imagined it.
She crawled to the
bank, leaving Damian sitting back in the water, watching her. She was still smiling to herself. So was he, for that matter. And then she finally noticed why. Her clothes had been plastered to her skin. She might as well have been as naked as he was.
Her blush was immediate, but it didn’t last, not once she noticed Damian’s eyes. They were usually a very soft gray, pale almost, but right now they were a darker, more turbulent color, indicating strong emotion. And he’d started to wade toward her. He wasn’t really going to walk out of the water with her staring at him, was he? He wasn’t…He did, and before she had sense enough to look away.
She’d probably carry that image to her grave, so strongly did it imprint itself on her mind. He was like a statue carved to perfection, the artist too proud to add the slightest flaw to such a splendid creation. And just that brief sight of him made her feel all tingly inside.
She sensed more than heard him kneeling there beside her on the bank. She wasn’t going to look again to be sure, but her breath caught in anticipation. She ought to get up and leave, yet she couldn’t get her legs to cooperate for some reason. And then his hands were cupping her cheeks, forcing her to meet his gaze.
A fire raging out of control; that was what his eyes brought to mind. The sun was beginning to set, casting them both in a golden glow, but there was still enough light to recognize such immense intensity.
“It’s not working anymore, Casey,” he remarked in a husky rasp.
Did he expect her to say something when she could barely think? “What…isn’t?”
“Telling myself our marriage isn’t real.”
“But it isn’t real.”
“Right now, at this exact moment in time, it’s very, very real.”
He must not have wanted another reply from her, because his mouth was now preventing any further comments. Raging fire? Volcanic eruption was more like what his kiss was all about. And within mere seconds, Casey’s own passion was ignited to a similar degree of intensity.
This was what she had been thinking about ever since that ornery judge had hitched her to Damian, so she was inclined to agree wholeheartedly with him. Right now, right this minute, their marriage was real—and Casey was tired of fighting to ignore the things her husband could make her feel.
There was no ignoring what she felt right now, even if she still wanted to, which she didn’t. The wild turmoil simply took over as she rose to her knees to get closer to Damian, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him back for all she was worth. Having his own arms gather her even closer to each shape and nuance of him was thrilling beyond belief, while his lips continued to ravish her mouth, pulling her even deeper into his passionate kiss.
She was so consumed with his kiss that a while later, she wasn’t even aware that he had to pry her arms away from him to get her shirt off. The silky camisole he ran into next gave him pause, as did her lacy drawers, but only because they were so feminine compared to the rest of her attire. And she barely noticed him spreading her poncho out on the ground, or picking her up to place her on it. But she noticed when he lay beside her and began to introduce her body to the feel of his hands.
There was no hesitancy in his touch. His hand moved over her arms, her neck, spent a great deal of time learning the shape and sensitivity of her breasts before continuing down her belly, all with a possessive boldness she wouldn’t have expected but which she reveled in.
And then he set about inflaming her passion beyond what her limited experience could handle. He bent to lick at the hard nub of one nipple, drawing an uncontrolled whimper from her. She tried to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge. He was going to torment her breasts for as long as he liked, never mind that they were so sensitive already that it was driving her crazy. When he finally did bring the full heat of his mouth over her breast, she thought she was going to go up in flames.
And that was when the hand on her belly moved again, lower, until his fingers slipped into the moistness between her legs. Casey’s response was immediate, a burst of such incredible pleasure, she could never have imagined the like. It spiraled outward, that pulsing ecstasy, spreading languor, draining all tension.
Damian’s weight settled on top of her as a reminder that she wasn’t alone. She opened her eyes to see his gentle smile and couldn’t help returning it. She felt a closeness to him now that had nothing to do with the proximity of their bodies. It was a nice feeling, too nice, actually, but she wasn’t going to worry about that now.
He kissed her again as another part of him pushed for entry between her legs. Much thicker was this new intrusion, much hotter, too, and then she felt a brief popping sensation inside her that startled her eyes open again. That intensity was back in his. And immediately the tension returned, pulsing around that part of him that had gained entry and was steadily filling her.
Casey forgot to breathe, so wondrous were these new sensations that his deep penetration caused, and then she was breathing too hard, because he had started to move inside her, started a tempo that she couldn’t help but join. It was happening again, but she expected it this time and held on tight, gasping, letting the pleasure surround her and take her swiftly to repletion.
Afterward, as he held her to his chest, his lips on her forehead, one hand tenderly caressing her back, she felt the most incredible contentment. She could have stayed there indefinitely if she hadn’t heard Damian’s belly rumble. She smiled—and ended up sharing that single fish for dinner after all.
Chapter 26
At first, Damian found it quite amusing; Casey’s legendary composure was gone. Every time she looked at him the next day, her cheeks would noticeably pinken. It wasn’t until he began to wonder why that it started to worry him.
Of course, she was probably having mixed feelings over what they’d done. He knew he certainly was. But he hoped she wasn’t regretting it. He should be, but he wasn’t.
Previously, his sexual habits where women were concerned had been quite simple. Spend a few hours with a woman and then go home to his bachelor bed. See them again or not; it never really mattered much. Casey was the first woman he’d ever spent the entire night with, then shared coffee with in the morning. It was a new experience for him, and one he wasn’t quite sure how to handle without making her embarrassment even worse.
He should have made love to her again this morning to ease the sexual tension they both seemed to be having. It was what he wanted to do. But she was being her efficient, let’s-hit-the-trail self again, so he didn’t attempt it. And besides, she had been a virgin. What little knowledge he had of them included a certain soreness they were reputed to experience for several days following their first sexual encounter. The very last thing he wanted to do was give Casey any pain now, when she had fortunately seemed to experience very little of it last night.
He did have a great deal of self-castigating to do, however, for yielding to temptation in the first place. He had been hoping against hope that they would find a judge quickly, because their temporary “marriage” had pretty much been driving him crazy, having the right to make love to Casey more or less handed to him, but trying to do the noble thing and not take advantage of it.
Yesterday, however, he sure hadn’t been thinking of anything noble—just the opposite. He had come up with one excuse after another to rationalize why he was being so foolish, suffering so much, when he didn’t have to. But that was all they had been—excuses. He knew he should have continued to keep his hands off her.
He still couldn’t regret it, though. She had proved to be too much of a delight in every way imaginable. And so very passionate. Now that had been surprising indeed, especially when she was so adept at keeping her emotions such a mystery.
They were still barely talking to each other by the time they reached Culthers late that afternoon. The town was, as reported, a small but quickly growing community. Comprised of two main blocks, with evidence of another under way, it offered a variety of businesses to tempt settlement in the area. It also se
emed much more peaceful than many towns they’d been through, with both children and their pets romping in the streets, an indication that not much gunplay disturbed the peace. There was more than one saloon, but they’d also seen more than one church on the ride in.
As soon as they arrived, Casey asked for directions to a boardinghouse. It was almost a slap in the face, her doing that, knowing how Damian was accustomed to staying in the best a town had to offer, and there was a hotel, albeit a small one. He knew she was in effect telling him to stay on his side of town, she’d stay on hers. In other words, she wanted no more intimacy with him.
She couldn’t have been more clear about it if she’d spoken the words aloud. How Damian felt about it was another matter. He didn’t like it at all, would have checked them into the same room if she’d asked his preferences. But he would respect her wishes. She obviously was having regrets, and wanted to make sure she’d have no more to add to them.
They parted after stabling the horses, agreeing to meet for dinner in a restaurant they’d noted in passing, where they would discuss how to proceed if Henry did happen to be here in Culthers.
As Damian walked into his hotel he saw the newspaper on the check-in desk—and Henry’s face was plastered on the front. He stopped dead in his tracks. Curruthers was running for mayor here, in an election to take place in several weeks.
Reading quickly through the article, Damian noted it was pretty much a case of one candidate slandering the other, the one slinging all the accusations being Henry. Strictly political in nature, the article didn’t say anything personal about Curruthers, such as how long he’d been a resident of Culthers or where he hailed from previously. It didn’t even mention his first name, but in a small town like this, everyone likely knew everyone, so maybe it was understood.