Golden Chances (Jordan-Alexander Family 1)

“No,” he told her, watching as her face crumpled in disappointment. “We live about five miles outside of Cheyenne. in the southeastern part of the territory.” Reese touched her shoulder. “Why don’t you take off your coat and gloves? We’ll be traveling for four or five days. You might as well make yourself at home.” He strolled over to the bar and produced a kettle from beneath it. He filled the kettle with water, then walked over and set it on the stove. “I’ll show you the rest of my home on wheels while the water is heating.”

Faith unbuttoned her coat and pulled off her gloves. Her hands automatically went under her chin to untie her bonnet strings. She was surprised to find it gone.

Reese grinned. “I think it landed in the bathtub.”

“I don’t remember removing it,” Faith admitted.

“I’m not surprised.” He smiled again. “You were busy over the basin. I took it off. You can get it later. “ He threw her coat over his arm. “Come, I’ll show you the bedroom.”

“The bedroom?” She looked at him as if he had sprouted horns.

“Yes, Mrs. Collins, the room with the bed in it. The one we’ll sleep in.”

“Together?” That one word transformed her slightly husky contralto into a squeak.

“How else are we going to make a baby?” He asked the question so casually it took a moment for the words to penetrate.

“What about Joy?” She clung to the only legitimate excuse she could think of.

“Joy has her own room and her own bed.” Reese stared at Faith. For a woman who had been married and had borne a child, she seemed unreasonably nervous. “She won’t be sharing ours. Why do you think I turned my office into a bedroom for her? She needs her privacy, and we will need ours.” He sounded so patient, but in truth, his patience was rapidly running out. He’d already paid ten thousand dollars for the right to put his seed in her, and he was eager to get on with it. He took her hand and led her to the door next to the washroom.

“Well, here it is.” He turned the cut-glass doorknob, then let the door swing open.

Faith gasped in surprise.

A huge bed made of carved oak dominated the room. The massive headboard was shaped like an arch. A bouquet of intricately carved roses was centered beneath the arch. The ribbons holding the bouquet together trailed down either side of the wood and wrapped themselves around the posts. The feather mattresses were piled high, the goose-down pillows, fluffy and plump. The bedcovers were made of gold satin. And the footboard of the enormous bed was a smaller version of the headboard.

It was the most beautiful bed Faith had ever seen. It looked warm, comfortable, inviting, and sinfully opulent. The room looked the way she imagined a king’s bedroom might look, with a bed all decked out in gold and the walls covered in forest-green satin. Large pillows in matching gold and green scattered about on the floor. A small oak table stood on either side of the headboard, each holding a brass lamp. One table was stacked with leather-bound books, while the other table held a vase of red roses. Their lovely scent filled the room, almost overpowering it.

Reese walked to an oak armoire and opened one of the doors. He hung her coat inside, then placed her gloves on the shelf. Her burgundy silk ball gown was hanging inside. He must have had the baggage sent ahead.

“You can have the right side. I’ll take the left.”

Her gaze was still riveted on the bed. It took her a moment to realize he was talking about the armoire.

His brown-eyed stare followed her gaze to the bed. “We’ll decide on that later,” he teased, his body hardening at the thought.

Faith whirled around and started for the door, determined to escape his presence. She slammed into Reese’s unyielding chest.

His arms went around her waist to steady her.

She braced her hands against his forearms and felt the electricity that arced between them. Her flesh tingled in anticipation. Her mouth went dry, and her skin grew hot. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue.

Reese watched in fascination as her lips parted. He leaned closer, dipping his head toward hers.

Faith looked up at him. His eyes were dark, smoldering, almost black. She watched his face move closer to hers. She thought he would kiss her. She waited, hoping. But his lips bypassed hers. She sighed in disappointment until she felt his cool lips press against her neck. He nibbled at her ear, sucking, ever so slowly on the lobe. She sagged in his arms, her legs refusing to support her weight.

Reese ran his hands up her rib cage and under her arms, silently urging her to move them upward, around his neck. She tried to loop her arms around his neck, but couldn’t. She settled for grasping handfuls of the wool covering his shoulder blades. Faith pulled herself against him, turning her head just enough to offer him her other earlobe. He explored her with his hands, inching forward, cupping the undersides of her breasts. He grazed the tips with the sides of his thumbs. Faith’s whole body seemed to jerk at the contact.

His warm, wet tongue traced the line of her neck from her earlobe to the fabric of her collar. He palmed her breasts again. Her heart pounded beneath his right hand. Her breathing was rapid, ragged, almost matching his.

Bending his knees, Reese swung her up into his arms, his attention focused on the massive bed?his parents’ marriage bed, the bed in which he’d been conceived, the bed where his son would be given life. He started toward it with Faith held cradled against him.

“Weese?”

He almost dropped Faith. The sound of his name spoken from the doorway was sobering. He turned around and lowered Faith to her feet. Joy stood watching them, her eyes wide with wonder. “The kettle is singing.”

“What?”