“Does this feel interested?”
With a twisting jerk of her hand, she finally managed to break free, but only because he allowed it. In anger, she retreated a step and averted her gaze. He was trying to shame her—and succeeding. How did he manage to unnerve her so? He left her feeling off balance and entirely too vulnerable. “Are you trying to frighten me?” she demanded unsteadily.
“No, ma’am. I just want you to know what you’re letting yourself in for. If you’re not willing to share a bed with me, let me know now. We’ll call the whole thing off.”
Lance saw the struggle on her face but steeled himself against giving in. The truth was, he wanted her so bad that he was willing to take whatever Summer was willing to let him have. But he’d be a fool to let her see his weakness for her. And he’d already been enough of a fool for one day.
“Look at me, Summer.” His whisky-rough voice held a command she couldn’t ignore. When she lifted her gaze, he held it with hard determination. “You’ll be my woman, not a princess in some tower. You’ll sleep with me. And take me into your body. And let me do things to you that no white woman would ever think of letting a savage do. You won’t deny me when I want you. Even if you aren’t willing, as my wife you’ll come to me when I tell you.”
His explicitness, his slow enunciation of exactly what he would require of her, made her squeeze her eyes shut in mortification. “Why…why are you making this so difficult for me?”
Lance clenched his jaw at the plea in her tone. He knew better than to let himself soften. She wasn’t beyond using her wiles to make him feel sympathy for her. And once he let that happen, it was only a short step till he was panting to do her bidding. “I just don’t want you holding the notion you can walk all over me once we’re married.”
Summer’s own slender jaw clenched. She resented the terrible position he had put her in, resented his forcing her to make such a decision. But she made herself open her eyes. “I…I scarcely know you.”
“You’ll get to know me a lot better when I’m your husband.”
“I…expected to marry well.”
His expression hardened even more, if that was possible. “I know. I’m not what you would consider a ‘desirable prospect.’ Five years ago I wasn’t good enough for you, and I’m not good enough now. But I’m all you’ve got.”
And that was the cold truth. They both knew it.
Summer searched
the dusky, compelling face so close to hers—the broad forehead, the high cheekbones, the sharp nose, the hard, merciless eyes. His eyes were so dark, she could see herself reflected in them. So unfathomable, she could read nothing there but determination. He wasn’t going to change his mind. She swallowed and wet her dry lips, accepting the inevitable.
“I want to leave tomorrow,” she said, mustering her own determination. “The longer we delay, the harder it will be to find Amelia.”
He frowned at that. “Who said anything about you going?”
“I always meant to accompany Reed to Fort Belknap.”
“It’s a long, dangerous trip for a woman.”
“I don’t care. Amelia is my sister and she needs me. I’ll travel as far as her in-laws’ farm with you, so I can be as close as possible when you find her. I can stay with the Truesdales while you search for her,” Summer said, refusing to be dissuaded or to consider the possibility of failure. “The stage comes through here at half past ten. Reed checked.”
The set of Lance’s shoulders relaxed the slightest degree, she thought. “I know what time the stage comes through town,” he replied dryly. “I supply the teams for the line, remember?”
“Oh. Yes…well…what will you do about the livery while you’re gone?”
He shrugged. “There’s a kid who helps out sometimes. Molly Jenkins’s boy. I can get him to stay here full-time to look after the horses and meet the stage.”
When she remained silent, Lance pinned her with his gaze. “You’re not gonna change your mind?”
Summer shook her head. She wanted to do it now, before she lost her courage. “No. I’d like to get it over with. Perhaps we should find a minister.”
His expression never changed, yet she couldn’t help but believe that some of the wariness, the hardness, had faded from his eyes. It was relief she saw there, she would swear it.
“Yeah,” Lance said tonelessly. “I’d like to get it over with, too.” He reached out and took her elbow. “Let’s go find ourselves a preacher.”
Chapter 3
Her wedding was nothing like she’d ever dreamed it would be, with none of her family in attendance and only Dusty and the minister’s wife to act as witnesses. Indeed, Lance had to rouse the circuit-riding Methodist minister out of bed, who then balked at performing the ceremony for a white woman and a half-breed under such suspicious circumstances.
When Reverend Baxter insisted that he first talk with Reed, Summer retorted that she didn’t need her brother’s permission to marry. Lance settled the issue by saying they were leaving tomorrow on a long journey to Indian Territory, and that unless the good Reverend wanted Miss Summer to live a life of sin, he would make their union legal.
Summer managed to repeat her vows in a credibly steady voice—not at all like a woman whose life had just been thrown into turmoil—and listened tensely as Lance did the same.