Harvest Moon (Borrowed Brides 2)

She would. She had wanted to ever since David unloaded the rest of the supplies. Tessa had unpacked the boxes and crates, delighting in the variety of canned goods and the thoughtful luxuries he’d ordered. She had almost everything put away when he brought in the last two big cartons. David had set them on the table, glancing at the labels.

“These are for you,” he’d told her. “I ordered a few things from Mary’s seamstress in Cheyenne.”

“More clothes?”

“You can’t keep wearing the one green dress,” he replied. “Oh, and there’s a couple of pairs of denims for Coalie and some shirts.”

Tessa looked stricken.

“Don’t worry. Mary’ll buy him some more. Go ahead,” he urged. “Try the dresses on.”

“No, I can’t. I’ve work to do.”

She’d stubbornly refused to open the packages earlier in the afternoon, but now she wanted to. She had reason to.

But still she protested. “The dishes…”

“I’ll do the dishes,” David promised.

Tessa looked askance at him.

“Come here.”

Tessa moved closer to him.

“Turn around.”

She did.

She felt his hands on her back as he quickly unbuttoned her dress and loosened her corset laces. It was a husbandly task. An intimate task. Yet it was something David Alexander had done for her a number of times. Something Tessa trusted him to do. She liked the warm feeling it gave her to know he’d done it without being asked. And up to now he’d always acted the gentleman.

“There,” David said. “You’re undone. Now you can go try on your new dresses.”

“Thank you.”

“Any time,” he replied, smiling down at her. “Go on. I’ll take care of this.”

She hurried across the room and grabbed the stack of boxes off David’s desk.

“Be careful,” she warned when David dropped his cup and the forks and spoons into the pan with a clatter, “or we’ll be buying more new crockery.”

“I know how to wash dishes.” He saw the skepticism in her expression and decided to prove it. He walked to the stove and removed the new copper kettle full of boiling water. Returning to the sink, he tipped the spout over the dishpan and poured, testing the water from time to time, until he got it hot enough.

Tessa watched, amazed. He did know how to do dishes. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” she demanded. “I thought you must’ve had a woman come in to clean before I got here. I didn’t know you did the work yourself.” She pinned an accusing stare on David. “I’ve been washing all the dishes since I got here when we could’ve been taking turns.”

David unbuttoned his cuffs, then turned to look at her. “I thought you wanted to.”

“Hmmf,” Tessa snorted, glancing upward. Only a man would say such a thing. “You thought I wanted to wash dishes?”

“Yes, and if you don’t go try on your new dresses, I’ll think you want to wash these.” David smiled his most devastating smile and rolled up his sleeves.

Tessa watched as he revealed the bronzed muscles of his forearms. She remembered the feel of his arms pressed against her. Turning, she left without another word, hurrying to her bedroom, where she slammed the door.

David allowed himself to relax. It was a relief to have Tessa out of his line of vision. The strain of holding his body in check was more than any one man should have to bear. He couldn’t seem to keep his gaze off her. He’d made a valiant effort, but he’d failed. She fascinated him.

It was all he could do to keep his hands off her. He wanted to taste her, to feel her. In the state he was in, David didn’t know how he’d make it through the night knowing they were alone, just the two of them together. He wanted to make love to her all night long. Even now he envisioned her taking off the green calico dress and the wet chemise. He saw her loosening the long satin laces of her corset, pictured the lovely pale, almost translucent skin, of her neck and arms and her long, long legs. Plunging his hands into the hot dishwater, David scrubbed a plate with a good deal more vigor than was necessary.

“I like the little pink flowers.” Tessa spoke from the doorway.