He went to collect more firewood, leaving her alone. She managed to pull off her skirt, boots, and underthings. She opened the jar and was rocked back at the dreadful smell. Manure! More like three-day-old dead fish! Still, she dipped a glob on her fingers and resolutely began to rub the chilly cream into her screaming thigh muscles.
She finished her legs and sat feeling like an utter fool. How the devil was she to do her bottom?
“Turn over on your stomach.”
He was standing over her, legs spread, his hands on his hips. He looked like some kind of desperado, a word she’d heard Lucas use.
“More modesty? I’ve made a thorough study of your charms. Did you not promise that you wouldn’t delay me? You won’t be able to sit your mare tomorrow without my . . . assistance. Now, turn over.”
She tugged her shirt over her thighs and slowly eased onto her stomach. She reared up when she felt her hips bared.
“Just hold still.” He straddled her, his knees on either side of her thighs. She felt his fingers coated with the cream touch her buttocks.
Delaney stared down at his wife’s beautiful white hips and saw the beginnings of bruises. He didn’t gentle his touch, but kneaded her soft flesh deeply and firmly. She groaned, but he pressed his hand into the small of her back to keep her from moving. God, but he wanted her! He sucked in his breath and continued rubbing her, stroking her. His fingers slid between her thighs, and he felt the heat of her.
All he had to do was flip her onto her back and take her. He quickly wiped the liniment from his hand. His finger found her and slowly began to ease inside her.
She wanted to cry and yell at him at the same time. She heard his jerky breathing, felt his finger probing. “How much do you intend to pay me?”
His finger thrust deep within her.
“Stop it! Damn you, don’t!” She tried to jerk away from him, but his knees were on either side of her thighs, and she couldn’t move.
“You’re my wife, and I’ll take you when and where I want to.”
“You don’t want me, you just want to punish me and hurt me!”
His finger eased out of her and he pressed his hand under her to cup her. “Yes, I want you, wife, and if you would but touch yourself as I am doing, you’d see that you are as ready as a bitch in heat.”
He moved his palm to her belly and she felt her own wetness on her fingers. Why not? she thought blankly to herself. At least for a few moments he would forget his anger. For a few moments he would respond to her as he used to.
“Very well,” she said softly.
24
He went still. I am a civilized man, he thought, not some miserable savage. But she wants you!
He shook his head. He didn’t know what she wanted. Slowly he eased his hand from under her and rose to his feet. He saw that her shoulders were shaking, and she’d
buried her face in her crossed arms.
“You do smell like a horse,” he said, turning away from her to stand by the small fire. “Dress yourself. A lady shouldn’t lie about bare-assed.”
She wasn’t crying, she was too angry to shed more tears. His crude words hit her, and her fury grew. Slowly she turned onto her back and raised herself on her elbows. She was naked from the waist down and made no move to pull her shirt over her body.
“You don’t smell too sweet yourself,” she said furiously at his back. She willed him to turn around.
He did, and nearly stumbled at the sight of her. “Dress yourself,” he repeated.
“Why?” she asked, stretching slightly, arching her back a bit. “You are my husband. As you said, you’re thoroughly familiar with all my charms.”
She was trying to put the boot on the other foot, and succeeding. He felt a bolt of admiration for her slash through him, and said coldly, “If you don’t cover yourself now, madam, I will take you. Very quickly. You won’t enjoy it, I promise you that.”
She didn’t move, only stared at him, her eyes luminous and unreadable in the dim campfire.
He began to unfasten the buttons of his buckskins. “You are willing to risk a babe in your belly when you return to England?”
He was a stranger to her in that moment, and she sought desperately to find the man she loved. “Will you never forgive me? Will you never try to understand?”