Western Widows

"You knew?" I asked, my voice incredulous.

He nodded. "I knew he was hurting you. Do you have any idea what it was like to watch you be so unhappy, knowing you were going home with him, so that he could hit you, yell at you, touch you?"

"I...I never knew," I sputtered.

"No, of course not! You were stuck in your own hell. At the Christmas party when our eyes met, you actually looked at me, and I mean looked, I knew then that you would be mine. But I saw Caruthers come up to you, admonish you for even glancing my way. I couldn't risk your safety for my own personal gain."

I frowned. His words were so overwhelming, so confusing. "What are you saying?"

He strode over to me, knelt down on the floor at my feet. He was so much larger than I that we were at eye level. "I'm saying you're marrying me. Right now."

My heart beat so quickly it felt like a hummingbird in my chest. "Marry you?"

"Did Caruthers pleasure you? Don't answer that. I can tell by the look on your face the answer is no."

I could only nod.

"He took your virginity."

I nodded again and focused on Ben's gaze, not thinking back to that uncomfortable night.

"Do you know what I want to do to you? To show you?"

"No," I whispered.

"I want to show you what it's really supposed to be like between a man and his wife. I want to strip you of this dress, to know that only I get to know what's beneath. I want to taste your skin and see if it's as sweet as I think. I want to know the size of your nipples, their color, the weight of your breasts. I want to spread your soft thighs and lick and taste your pussy. I want to put my cock deep inside you, to feel you clench me tight."

I couldn't help but make a soft sound at the back of my throat at the thoughts his words elicited.

"Would you like that?"

I searched his face, hunting for any hint of retribution.

"Yes, I'd like that, but Paul married me because he wanted my money. I don't want you marrying me for my body. You could bed a woman at the saloon any time you wished."

"Yes, that's probably true, but I'm not offering any of them marriage." He shook his head, an imploring look in his eyes. "We're part of a whole, you and me. You've felt the link. You know it's real. When we fuck, it won't just be for pleasure. I want to possess you, just as you already possess me. Let me show you." When I stalled, thinking, considering his words, he pushed his advantage. "The truth, Leah. I've shared my love. Give me the gift of the truth. Do you want me?"

"Yes." My voice was clear and confident, bolstered by him. He'd been vulnerable when he'd told me of his love, for I could easily have thrown it back in his face like a bouquet of unwanted flowers. Instead, it was the most precious thing anyone had given me and I relished it, felt the walls around my heart crumble. He didn't have to profess his love to bed a woman. Couples married for less, and I was certainly one to know this.

He grinned. "When I say I want my cock deep inside you, I don't just mean your pussy." At my silence, he added, "Do you want to know more?"

I licked my lips with the first hints of anticipation I'd ever felt. I wanted Mr. Worth to do everything he spoke of, even the things I didn't understand. "Yes," I whispered.

He ran a hand down the side of my face in a gentle caress. "Then we better get Reverend Pick."

CHAPTER THREE

BEN

An hour later, I had her at my house. Alone and wed. Reverend Pick was kind enough to keep our quick ceremony a secret, for the pot luck would most assuredly have turned into a wedding reception and I did not wish to spend the afternoon with the townsfolk of Collins. I wanted to spend it with Leah. Alone and in my bed.

"You know I'm scarred," Leah said to me as I held her hand and led her up the stairs and to my—our—bedroom.

I looked over my shoulder at her. Scarred? What had happened to her? She was so small in comparison to my large size that even a minor accident could harm her irreparably.

"You said he didn't beat you."

She shook her head. "Scarred on the inside. Mr. Worth—"