The Savage

But he needed more to hold Summer in his arms and savor the feel of her body, soft and willing and helpless, against his. Needed time to get used to the idea that she was really lying here with him, innocent and trusting. To grow accustomed to the wash of tender emotion, alien and strong, that was lodged like a pain in his chest.

He couldn’t believe all this. He’d spent years yearning for what he couldn’t have. And now, suddenly, incredibly, it had come true.

Summer was his woman. His wife. His fantasy.

Well, maybe not entirely. She wasn’t fully his wife yet. Not until they consummated their vows—and even then he couldn’t count on her keeping her word. He could still lose her at any moment. Especially if he failed to find her sister. Or even if he managed to bring Amelia back alive. Either way, there would be nothing to tie Summer to him then.

Deliberately Lance forced himself to let out the breath he’d unconsciously been holding. He wouldn’t let his fear get the better of him.

Summer was his for the moment.

And he would fight to his last breath against anything or anyone—including Summer herself—in order to keep her.

Chapter 4

Summer awoke alone and disoriented. Wincing at the bright sunlight streaming through the chinks of the shutters, she lifted her head slowly from the pillow. Lance. This was Lance’s home. His livery stable. His office. His bed.

A powerful rush of awareness assaulted her. She was naked, wrapped in only a blanket, lying on the hard cot where she’d b

een introduced to passion by the ruthless stranger who was now her husband. The scent of him clung to her skin, more powerful even than the smell of fresh coffee that permeated the small room.

With a silent groan, Summer buried her face in the pillow, yet she couldn’t shut out the insistent images that shimmered darkly behind her eyes. Lance making her undress for him. Lance initiating her to pleasure and bringing her to ecstasy. Lance holding her in his hard arms while she sobbed in fear and weariness.

He hadn’t claimed his rights as her husband, and yet what he had done seemed somehow worse. He had bonded them together with intimacy, at the same time proving his mastery over her. He had seduced her, using tenderness and passion as weapons instead of threats of rape and physical coercion.

The realization left Summer in a welter of confusion. Lance had threatened to take her by force, but he had shown her nothing but gentleness…and incredible, incredible pleasure.

The sharp memory streaked through her, sending warmth pooling between her thighs. She hadn’t known what lovemaking would be like. She’d never imagined any feelings could be that…intense, that overwhelming. She had never expected to respond so strongly to any man, even Lance, who’d always had the power to stir her blood with merely a look.

She’d always known he was dangerous, but last night had actually frightened her. She knew she couldn’t control him the way she could her other beaux, but never before had she lost control of herself.

When Amelia had once warned her of the possibility, she had scoffed. She could almost hear her sister’s voice scolding her in exasperation at one of her flirtations. Mark my words, young lady, one of these days you’ll meet your match. And then you’ll see how much it hurts to have your affections toyed with.

Was this what Amelia meant? Had she met her match in Lance?

Summer raised a trembling hand to her temple. Her head felt fogged by too many hours of exhausted sleep, her naked skin overly sensitive to the scratchy wool of the blanket, the hollow between her thighs throbbing with a tender ache....

At least Lance had left the office. She didn’t want to face him just now. She didn’t want to remember the shameful things he had done to her, the way she had come apart in his arms, how she had broken down in tears afterward. Her pride was in tatters, her nerves a state of raw confusion. She didn’t want to be so vulnerable to him.

And when he returned? What in heaven’s name was she going to do? She had surrendered to him with pure wantonness—

A sudden realization made Summer’s chin snap up. She was Lance’s wife now. There was no dishonor in what she had done. She had accepted his conditions in exchange for his help, simply that. Her weakness last night had been the result of strain and weariness, nothing more. She had turned to Lance for comfort—and he had responded with more tenderness than she’d thought him capable of, holding her and stroking her before she’d succumbed to exhaustion.

Today she would be better prepared to handle herself, to face the difficult future. This morning they would take the stage for Fort Belknap. Shortly, in fact. From the brightness of the sunlight, the morning was well-advanced—

With a sudden exclamation of dismay, Summer whipped her head around to stare at the shuttered widow. Dear God, Amelia! How could she have forgotten her sister even for an instant?

Throwing off the blanket, Summer jumped up from the cot and searched frantically for her watch, which was pinned to the bodice jacket of her traveling suit. Prying open the gold case, she felt relief flood her. It was scarcely nine o’clock. There was still ample time to catch the stage if she didn’t dally.

Hurriedly she washed and dressed, then brushed her hair. As she secured it into a simple knot at her nape, she couldn’t help remembering how Lance had removed the pins last night. The thought made hot color flood her cheeks.

Trying to ignore the insistent recollections, she gave her skirts a final smoothing and stepped outside the office, intending to make use of the privy behind the stables. It was a cool, fresh early September morning, sunlit and sparkling. A dozen horses moved restlessly in the corral beside the building, but there was no sign of Lance.

She had returned to the office and was eating a hasty breakfast of biscuits and coffee when she heard the plod of horses’ hooves outside. When the door latch lifted, Summer froze, not daring to look behind her, not knowing how to act.

The door swung slowly open and Lance stepped inside the room; she knew it was he from the way her skin suddenly started to tingle. She was palpably conscious of his presence in the small cabin. His nearness had always affected her powerfully, but this time the effect was magnified tenfold after what had gone on between them last night.

This man was her husband, the husband who had become familiar with her body last night, who had held her through the night, lending her his strength. The thought of facing him unnerved her.