light kisses. When he reached her mouth, slightly open and waiting, he couldn’t resist.
He felt her come awake slowly, one sense at a time. She shyly kissed him back. He ran his hands into her loose hair and pulled her head off the pillow as he rolled and brought her on top of him.
In the shadows he watched her look down at him with sleepy eyes. “Kiss me again,” he whispered.
She smiled and did as he requested.
Before her lips pulled away, he whispered, “Again.”
She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck.
The kiss exploded with passion. She was fully awake now and wanting his nearness as much as he wanted her.
When they finally had to stop to breathe, he rolled her on her back. “Now again, if you don’t mind.”
“You don’t have to keep asking. I’ve no plan to stop until you beg me to.”
“I’ll take that challenge.”
This time, as their lips touched, he cupped her breast and brushed his thumb across the peak. She reacted as he hoped she would, by pulling him close.
“I want you so much,” he whispered between hurried kisses.
He told himself they were married. He had every right, but he knew he’d make love to her only when she said she wanted him. He knew if he ever took her as his real wife, he’d never leave. Not her, or the ranch, or the child she carried. There were some things a part-time husband could never do as part of a bargain.
He broke the kiss and looked down at her. In the pale light of the fire her lips were swollen, her hair was spilled across the pillows, and her eyes shone bright with unshed tears.
He rolled away, onto his back. Her silence had told him all he needed to know. He might want her, but she didn’t want him . . . not in the way he needed her. If she had she would have said something.
Mrs. Peters’s words came back to him. You’ll never be loved, but maybe you’ll make yourself useful. That was all he was to her. Useful.
He’d fallen for a woman who didn’t or wouldn’t love him. He’d fallen into hell.
Chapter 9
Cozette pretended to sleep the rest of the night. Until he’d told her he wanted her she’d thought they were simply playing a game. He was touching her, she was enjoying it. When he’d said he wanted her, she knew he was no longer playing. He hadn’t said he loved her or wanted to stay forever. He simply wanted her, and she’d already had one man in her life who’d simply wanted her.
She felt him slip from her bed long before dawn. He hadn’t touched her since he’d rolled away from her, so she had no warmth to miss.
Maybe she should have said she wanted him, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever want a man in that way again. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience. In fact, the mating had hurt when she’d been forced down without warning.
Michael might be gentle and kind, but she wasn’t sure the act wouldn’t still hurt.
She had loved his kisses, though, and the way his hands touched her as if they were worshipping her. She’d even thought of asking him to touch her again, but she didn’t know how. That kind of honesty had never circled so near before.
She slipped from the bed and crossed the bathing room to his bedroom. He’d pulled on clean trousers and was sitting by the open windows tugging on his old boots. The cold air blew her gown as if pushing her back, but she tiptoed toward him.
He didn’t look up but she had a feeling he knew she was there.
“Your new boots should fit far better,” she said calmly.
When he didn’t look up, she took one step more. “Are you mad at me?”
“No,” he answered too quickly.
“Good,” she played along as she moved closer. “Then, you’d have no objection to a good-morning kiss.”
“It’s a long time until morning,” he mumbled before looking up at her, and a moment later she was running into his arms. He was her only friend. The only one she could trust. She couldn’t stand to see hurt in his wonderful blue eyes and know that she’d caused it.
“You promised you’d never be cruel to me,” she whispered. “Don’t turn away from me now.”
He buried his head in her chest and let out a long sigh, then kissed her wildly as if a hunger for her had almost killed him.