Prince Charming

Chapter 14

The twins conquered their shyness in no time at all. The night air had revived them as well. They talked nonstop all the way back to the hotel while they climbed all over Lucas and Hunter.

The two men had never considered themselves family men. They hadn't ever been around such little children, and they both felt awkward and inept holding such fragile little things.

The babies didn't feel awkward around the giants, however. They took to the two men the way ducks take to water.

Taylor had her full attention on the little boy. She asked him his name. He told her he didn't have a real one or at least he couldn't remember one, and then, while he wrung his hands together with worry, he whispered all the names he'd been called. He ended his explanation with a shrug.

"I guess you could call me Sneak. That's what everyone calls me the most."

Taylor was appalled and horrified, but she hid her reaction from the child. She didn't want to embarrass him. Most of the nicknames he rattled off were grossly obscene. He was too young to understand their meaning, of course, and she counted that fact a blessing.

Both Lucas and Hunter were listening to the conversation. When Lucas heard the nicknames, he became infuriated. Hunter wanted to kill someone.

"We will never say those words again," she instructed the child. She kept her voice a gentle whisper. "I want you to forget you ever heard them."

"Then what will you call me?" he asked. He sounded as worried as he looked.

Lucas and Hunter weren't helping matters. They were both scowling like bandits. She didn't want the child to believe he was the reason for their foul moods. She gave both men a quick glare she hoped they would interpret to mean she wanted them to quit looking so dour, then turned back to the little boy.

"You don't remember a name your mother or father used to call you?"

"Mama died. I try, but I can't remember her face anymore. I didn't have a father."

Hunter leaned forward to question the boy then. He began by telling him not to be afraid of him, then asked him what happened after his mother passed away.

The child lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "I slept in a crate behind Stoley's store."

"You didn't have family to go to?" Hunter asked then.

The child shook his head. He straightened up in his seat and smiled. "I'm not afraid of you, not since she told me…"

Hunter glanced over at Lucas. "Told you what, son?" Lucas asked.

"You know," he whispered.

"Tell us anyway," Lucas encouraged. His curiosity was pricked, of course. The boy was staring at him with a look of adoration on his face. He wanted to know why.

"She said you two look scary, but it's all right. You're supposed to," he explained.

He turned to smile up at Taylor. She nodded.

"We're supposed to look scary?" Hunter repeated.

"Why?" Lucas asked.

The boy answered him. "Cause you come in all shapes and sizes."

He acted as though Lucas should already know that important fact.

Both men turned their gazes to Taylor. They obviously wanted her to explain. She didn't say a word. She simply looked back at them and gave them a sweet smile.

The riddle intrigued Lucas. "What comes in all shapes and sizes?" he asked.

Hunter shrugged. "I'm still trying to figure out why we look scary."

The child answered their questions, his voice whisper soft. "You're my guardian angels."

"Helpers," Taylor reminded the little boy in a whisper only he could hear.

She was too embarrassed to look at her husband or his friend. She patted the child and turned her attention back to the matter of a suitable name to call him.

Lucas coughed to cover the laughter he was suppressing. Hunter shook his head. "We are not angels," he muttered.

The boy brightened up. "She told me you would say you weren't."

"Now listen here, son…" Lucas began. Taylor interrupted him. "I happen to have two fine names in mind to call you," she announced. "Daniel and Davy, though I would imagine we would use the formal David in this instance. Yes, Daniel or David." Lucas leaned back. "Here we go again," he whispered to Hunter.

Taylor immediately defended her choices. "They are both proud, honorable names, aren't they?"

Lucas nodded. Hunter looked confused. He didn't know about Taylor's obsession with the mountain men and their legends.

"Daniel and David," said the little boy, trying out the names.

"Yes," Taylor said. "You must take your time to decide which name you want. It's an important decision, you see, because you'll carry the name for the rest of your life. I shall be happy to help you decide."

"How?" the boy asked.

"I'll tell you a story about each courageous man before you go to bed at night. One story will be all about Davy Crockett and the other will be about Daniel Boone."

"Will I be David or Davy Crockett then or Daniel Boone?"

"David," she corrected. "It's a bit more proper. Your last name is going to be Ross."

"It is?"

She smiled. "Yes, it is."

"Will the men be mad if I borrow their first names?"

"No, no, of course not," Taylor replied. "They're dead. They won't mind at all."

Taylor told him who the famous men were and that they were so admired that books had been written about them. The child became enthralled. She couldn't have hoped for a better reaction. She wanted him to love the mountain men as much as she did. More important right this minute was the fact that the little one wasn't wringing his hands together any longer.

"Family isn't about blood," she explained. "It's about making a commitment to one another."

He didn't understand what she was telling him. Taylor didn't try to explain further. She understood, and in her mind, that was all that mattered.

Two hours later, everyone was bedded down for the night. Lucas and Hunter were forced to take over the duty of bathing the little girls. David Daniel had already had his bath and his hair trimmed. While he played in the tub, his clothes were washed and dried by the hotel's laundry service. The twins' clothes were also cleaned. Taylor was kneeling on the floor washing the babies when Victoria demanded her attention. She had started to violently throw up again.

Since neither Hunter nor Lucas wanted to get near her, Taylor made them take over the chore of scrubbing the babies. She ordered them not to let them drown, then went running with a wet cloth to Victoria's side in the other washroom.

The two-year-olds were wide awake and talking up a storm. Lucas lathered up one of the twins, then realized his mistake. He lost her under the water. She came up sputtering and giggling. The soap made the babies as slick as greased piglets, and both Hunter and Lucas were drenched through by the time they got the pair out of the tub.

They dried them with towels, put their clean drawers back on them, and then sat them on Victoria's bed.

They stayed there less than a second. They weren't at all tuckered out. Lucas and Hunter were exhausted. They sat side by side on the settee, feeling helpless and weary, while the babies climbed all over them.

Georganna was the more talkative of the two, though Alexandra certainly held her own. Both girls asked question after question, and if they didn't get an answer, they just kept repeating it over and over and over again.

They called each other Georgie and Allie. Hunter still couldn't tell them apart, but Lucas could.

While the men kept watch over the babies, Taylor ordered a day bed for the adjoining bedroom and secured yet another room on the same floor for Victoria. She was finally feeling fit again. Her things were moved down the hall into the room next to Hunter's. David Daniel, wearing one of Lucas's undershirts, was tucked into the day bed and told a story about Davy Crockett and another about Daniel Boone. By the time Taylor leaned down to kiss him good night, he was sound asleep.

The twins were winding down as well. They had both squeezed themselves between Lucas and Hunter. Their eyes were droopy and their thumbs were in their mouths. They were being lulled to sleep by the men's conversation.

"Did you hear her tell the boy his name was Ross?" Hunter asked in a low whisper.

"I heard," Lucas replied. He grabbed hold of Georgie's foot before it slammed into his groin.

"She know what she's taking on?" Hunter asked then.

Lucas yawned. "Seems she does," he drawled out.

"The boy won't have anyone looking for him," Hunter remarked. "But what about these two? Are there any relatives waiting or wanting to take them in?"

Lucas was about to answer his question when Taylor walked into the room.

She wanted to discuss their sleeping arrangements. Lucas straightened up. Her remark gained his full attention.

She thought it would be a fine idea for her to sleep with the twins in the large bed next to David Daniel.

He had to put his foot down. She was sleeping with him, and that was that.

"We'll leave the door between the rooms open."

"What if one wakes up crying?" she asked.

"I'll hear them," Lucas promised.

Hunter grinned. "I'll probably hear them, too," he jested. "They're little, Taylor, but they both have a mighty roar. Didn't you hear them when they were in the tub? They were making enough noise to reach the lobby."

Taylor didn't look convinced. Hunter gave up. He turned to his friend and reminded him of their errand. Lucas assured him he hadn't forgotten. He stood up, handed one of the babies to Taylor, then leaned down and kissed her good-bye.

"Where are you going? It's after ten," she told him.

He didn't answer her. Hunter drew her attention then by giving her the second twin. He tweaked the baby's nose, winked at the other one, and then followed Lucas to the door.

"Mr. Ross, tell me where you're going?" she demanded.

"Lock the door, Taylor. Don't let anyone in."

She couldn't go after him to stop him and demand an explanation. She had her hands full of squirming babies.

She put them to bed, covered them up, then tiptoed out of the room. When she reached the alcove of her own bedroom, she turned around and found them right behind her.

It took her three tries before she finally got them to stay in their own bed. Allie fell asleep first, but Georgie quickly followed.

Victoria came down to her room a few minutes later. She took over the duty of watching the children while Taylor took her bath.

Once she was dressed in her nightgown and robe, she sat down in one of the chairs adjacent to the divan and brushed her hair while she and Victoria caught up on everything that had happened. Taylor didn't leave any of the details out. She lingered over her description of the foul woman named Shirleen and the disgusting man lounging on the divan while David Daniel had been locked in the closet. Victoria was properly outraged.

"Why didn't you alert the authorities?" her friend asked.

"My first concern was to get the children away from there," Taylor explained. "I'm not about to give up David Daniel," she added. "But since I'm not his mother according to the law, I was worried he might be taken away from me. I couldn't risk it."

"Those vile people should be punished for their sins," Victoria said. "And what about these brothers? Will they go right on their merry way?"

Taylor shook her head. "If I have them arrested, there will be a trial. In America, everyone is considered innocent until proven guilty. There would probably be articles written in the papers. The twins would be mentioned, of course, and my name would appear."

"Malcolm," Victoria whispered. "You're concerned about your uncle, aren't you?"

She nodded.

"Cincinnati is quite a distance away from London, Taylor."

"Yes, of course it is. Victoria, what would you do?"

Her friend didn't have a ready answer. "What does Lucas suggest?"

"I haven't told him about Malcolm."

"I realize that," she countered. "But what about the Borders? Doesn't he think they should be punished?"

Taylor straightened in her chair and dropped her brush into her lap. "Lucas and Hunter went back to the tenement," she whispered.

"Why?"

"To wait for the Border brothers," Taylor said. "Dear God, there's bound to be trouble."

"Lucas can take care of himself. And so can Hunter. It's out of your hands now. Those two will surely drag the brothers off to the authorities."

Taylor wasn't so certain either her husband or his friend would involve the police. They might want to deal with the brothers themselves. She had seen the looks on their faces.

"There's always a chance the brothers won't go home tonight," Victoria remarked. "You could be worrying for no purpose."

"We should leave Cincinnati the day after tomorrow. We'll only allow one day to purchase the things we'll need."

The switch in topics took Victoria by surprise. "Yes," she agreed after a moment's pause. "I purchased all the items you'd written down."

"The children need shoes."

"We'll get them tomorrow. Taylor, what in heaven's name are you going to tell Lucas?"

"His duty is done," she replied. "He'll probably leave tomorrow. I shall suggest that very thing."

Victoria rolled her eyes heavenward. "Do you honestly believe he would leave you with three children stranded in this city? I think not. You're fooling yourself if you believe that nonsense."

Taylor's shoulders slumped. "Poor Mr. Ross," she whispered. "He didn't ask for any of this. He doesn't even want to be married."

"He may not like being married, but he's certainly beginning to like you. Don't look so surprised, Taylor. Haven't you noticed the way he stares at you?"

"Do you mean the if-it-wasn't-against-the-law-I'd-throttle-you look he gives me all the time?"

Victoria smiled. "I must admit I have seen that look several times. What about hired help? You mentioned you wanted to employ a cook and a nanny and a maid. Is there time to interview?"

Taylor shook her head. "I would have to run an advertisement first. No, there isn't time. I'm afraid we'll be on our own for a time. Perhaps we'll find suitable help in Redemption."

It was a false hope. How many cooks could there be in a two-block town?

Victoria was thinking along the same lines. "I have taken the liberty of purchasing a book full of recipes," she told Taylor. "They don't look too difficult."

They continued to talk about the problems they might encounter and worked on their list of things to be purchased in Cincinnati. It was almost midnight when Victoria went back to her room. Her friend offered to help take the children to breakfast the following morning.

Taylor was too keyed up to sleep. Her mind kept turning back to the Border brothers. She wasn't the vengeful sort, but she felt it was her duty to see that their business was stopped. There would be other children at risk unless something was done.

She finally came up with what she believed was a suitable plan.

Lucas came back to their room a few minutes later. He spotted Taylor sitting at the desk, diligently writing something down on paper. She was so engrossed in what she was doing, she barely spared him a glance.

It was safe to stare at her because she wasn't paying him any attention, and Lucas did just that. She made him feel clean. The realization made him smile. He knew he wasn't being reasonable. He didn't care. He'd just come back from the filth in the city. Hell. The area he'd been in was surely what hell would be like. And looking at the Border brothers in their seedy quarters was very like staring at a couple of demons.

Now Lucas felt as though he'd made it all the way to heaven. Taylor. With her golden curls and wonderful blue eyes. God, he even liked her frowns.

He wanted her so much he was shaking with his need. He took a bath instead. When he returned to the main room, she was still laboring over her task.

And he still wanted her. He listed at least ten sound reasons why he should leave her alone tonight. The last was the least substantial. It was after midnight. She was exhausted. She needed her sleep.

It didn't matter. By the time he'd crossed the room, he knew what was going to happen. Gaining his wife's cooperation was all that mattered to him now.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She put her pen down and looked up at him. "I've just finished writing out an advertisement. I'm offering five thousand dollars for information leading to the arrest and conviction of Billy and Cyrus Border. Do you think I should offer more?"

He shook his head. "Their friends would sell them out for a whole lot less."

"That's what I thought," she told him. "I'm going to deposit the money in one of the banks here and put an officer in charge of the disbursement. My hope is that the reward will force the brothers to run for the rest of their lives."

"They aren't going to bother anyone ever again."

She jumped to her feet. "What happened?"

He shrugged. Billy and Cyrus were both dead, but he didn't tell her that. The truth might upset her. She was such a gentle woman, she wouldn't understand. It had been a fair fight. Lucas made certain of that. In the end, Cyrus tried to shoot Hunter in the back. Lucas had taken him out, and Hunter had taken care of Billy. He could have killed him in cold blood. He didn't though. He waited until Billy drew on him. Then he shot the son of a bitch through the center of his black heart.

He didn't want to talk about or think about the vermin any longer.

"They're gone," he told her.

"Do you mean to say they left the city?"

He had to think about the question a long minute. He guessed they had left. Their souls were probably already in hell, and their bodies were already starting to decay wherever Hunter had buried them.

"I guess you could say they have."

She put her hands on her hips. "Tell me exactly what happened tonight," she demanded.

"Hunter and I took care of the matter. That's all you need to know, Taylor. Are you tired?"

"No, but-"

"Good. Come to bed now."

He caught hold of her hand and dragged her into the alcove. He was barefoot and shirtless.

His back was broad, unblemished, deeply tanned.

She knew his skin would be warm to her touch. She tried to block the thought. She started feeling breathless. He stopped and turned around to look at her when they reached the side of the bed. His pants were unbuttoned. She could see the dark, curly hair in the opening.

She started blushing. She said the first thing that came into her mind. "You shouldn't walk around like that. You'll catch a chill. Aren't you cold?"

He reached for the tie to her robe. "No. Fact is, I'm hot."

She let him take her robe off. The way he was looking at her made her feel warm inside.

"You must be exhausted," she blurted out.

He shook his head. "I'm not at all tired."

She frowned up at him. "If I'm not tired, and you aren't either, why are we going to bed?"

He let her figure out the answer to that question. He walked over to close the drapes. When he was finished, the room had turned into a cozy cocoon.

Taylor sat down on the side of the bed. She removed her slippers and then stood up again.

She wanted to check on the children. He caught her when she tried to walk past him. "I already looked in on them," he assured her. "The babies got in bed with the boy. They're sound asleep."

She nodded, turned around, and got into bed. She fluffed her pillow behind her head, pulled the covers up, and then smiled at him.

He got into bed beside her. "You forgot to douse the light," she told him in a whisper.

He rolled to his side, propped himself up on his elbow, and stared down at her.

"I didn't forget."

He wanted to see her passion. He wanted to look into her eyes when she found fulfillment. He didn't think it would be a good idea to tell her the truth, however. She was skittish enough. The way she was gripping her hands together told him how nervous she was.

He leaned down to kiss her. She turned her head away. "Do you remember that first night in London at the ball?"

The question caught him off guard. He leaned back. "Yes, I remember. We were married that day."

"At the party your half brother told you he had been intimate with me. Do you recall his boast?"

Lucas frowned. He couldn't imagine why she would bring up that topic now. He guessed he'd have to wait to find out where she was leading him. "Yes, I remember," he told her.

She turned to look up at him. "It wasn't true," she whispered. "He never touched me. No man has. I just thought you should know."

His smile was filled with tenderness. She was trying to tell him she was a virgin and blushing enough to make him think she considered the topic horribly embarrassing. "I already knew," he whispered back.

"Oh." She said the word with a long-drawn-out sigh.

Lucas draped his arm around her waist and leaned down to nibble on her earlobe.

"What are you doing, Mr. Ross?"

"Complicating things."

He started to laugh. He moved lower to place wet kisses along the column of her throat. She could barely catch her breath. She moved her head to the side so he'd have better access even as she embraced the thought that he should stop this nonsense immediately. He shouldn't be amused either. If he made love to her, it really would complicate things. She certainly couldn't get an annulment, could she? Did she even want one? What about a divorce? Did she want one of those? Oh, God, it was already complicated.

The truth all but smacked her in the face. She was the one complicating things, not Lucas, and all because she was falling in love with him.

She was thoroughly disgusted with herself. Hadn't she learned her lesson yet? Was it going to take another heartbreak before she finally figured it all out? Men weren't to be trusted. Except Lucas, a voice whispered deep inside her. She could trust him. But what did it matter? And how in God's name could she love a man who looked ready to gag every time she reminded him he was married to her?

Taylor rolled over to face Lucas. She was going to tell him to keep his hands at his sides and leave her alone. She neither wanted nor needed him. If she said the words with enough authority and feeling, she might even believe they were true.

"Mr. Ross?"

He cupped her chin with one hand and nudged her face up. His mouth hovered directly over hers. "Yes?" he asked in a voice as rough as sandpaper.

She suddenly wanted him to kiss her. Just one kiss, she told herself. Then she'd tell him to leave her alone.

"Just one," she whispered.

His mouth brushed over hers. "One what?"

She forgot. It was his fault because he had such beautiful eyes. He robbed her every thought when he stared at her with such intensity, such passion. She was powerless to do anything more than stare back.

She wished he'd kiss her. That realization made her remember. "Just one kiss," she blurted out before she forgot.

He nudged her onto her back. Then he covered her with his body. He braced himself on his elbows so he wouldn't crush her and stared down into her eyes.

"And then?" he asked.

"And then what?"

She was having trouble concentrating. He thought that was a nice reaction. He knew he was rattling her. She was blushing enough to make him think she could feel his hardness pressed against her. He rested between her thighs. Her nightgown had gotten bunched up around her hips. Taylor was trying to push the gown down and stay perfectly still at the same time. Oh, yes, she felt him all right. God knew he could feel her heat. It made him harder, until desire mixed with pain and he was throbbing with his need to plant himself solidly inside her.

"Just one kiss," she whispered. "And then you…"

His mouth silenced her explanation. He took complete possession. His mouth was hard and hot, as hard and hot as the rest of his body. His tongue swept inside. She groaned low in her throat and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her nails dug into his waistband. He grunted in response. She thought it was the most arousing sound she'd ever heard.

She loved everything about him, his scent, his taste, the feel of his hot skin under her fingertips. He was so strong he could easily crush her, and yet he was incredibly gentle whenever he touched her. He kept his strength contained. His power surrounded her, comforted her.

He wooed her with his mouth, his tongue, and his hands. He stroked her wild and made her feel as though she was the most precious thing in the world. He made her feel wanton and desirable. And powerful. He reacted to her every touch. She could make him groan by simply brushing her fingertips across his shoulders. When she moved against him, he deepened his kiss and pulled her tight against him.

She couldn't seem to get enough of him. He pulled her hands away from his back but only for a second or two. He tugged on the sleeves of her gown, and then demanded in a rough whisper that she hold onto him again. His mouth left hers. Before she could protest, he was kissing her again. She wished he wouldn't tease her. She never wanted the kiss to end, and when at last he did pull away from her, she was panting for breath and clinging to him.

He was in much the same condition. He thought he sounded as though he'd just run up the side of a mountain.

She felt as though she was floating in a pool of sunshine. She couldn't catch hold of a single worry. Desire made her blissfully carefree. Lucas had done that to her. One kiss and he'd filled her mind with butterflies.

He wasn't finished wooing her. He kissed a path down her neck, lingered over the pulse beating frantically at the base of her throat, and then moved lower still. She let out a sigh of contentment and closed her eyes.

He was determined to go slowly. He wanted to savor their coming together, but more important, he didn't want to frighten her. He'd taken her nightgown off but kept his britches on, and he wondered how long it would take her to realize she was naked. He prayed it would be later instead of sooner. He wanted her to be as caught up in desire as he was. He would stop if she asked him to, but damn, he didn't even want to think about the possibility. He was already burning, and all he wanted to do was feel her squeezing him while he poured his seed into her. She was going to be hot and tight and wet, just like he'd fantasized all these past weeks.

He let out a low groan in anticipation.

She had the softest, the smoothest skin he'd ever felt. He wanted to taste every inch of her. God, she smelled as wonderful as heaven. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled her sweet fragrance while he slowly eased himself down on top of her.

His chest covered her breasts. She let out a gasp of raw pleasure and wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him closer. The thick mat of dark hair covering his chest tickled and tantalized her breasts. The heat from his skin made her nipples hard. She was overwhelmed by the erotic feelings flooding her body. She moved restlessly against her husband, wanting something more from him to ease the heaviness in her breasts.

He seemed to know what she wanted. His hands moved down from her shoulders to stroke her breasts. He took each into the palms of his hands, then slowly rubbed the pad of his thumbs across her sensitive nipples.

She let out a little cry. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades. He grunted in response to the pain-pleasure she gave him, then moved again down her sweet body so that he could caress her with his mouth. He kissed the valley between her breasts with loving attention. Her skin was so sensitive to his touch, the day's growth on his face felt rough and scratchy, and dear God, it was the most incredible feeling. She felt as though she were coming off the bed. She arched up against her husband, begging him without words not to stop his torment.

She didn't think it was possible to feel more pleasure. And yet, when his mouth covered one of her nipples and he began to suckle, she couldn't remember to breathe. The pleasure was so intense, it consumed her. And just when she was certain she was going to die from the ecstasy he was giving her, he rolled away from her.

He stood up by the side of the bed. They stared at one another for a long silent minute. He was savoring the look of passion in her eyes. They were a misty blue now. Her lips were swollen, her skin flushed, and God but she was the most sensual woman in all the world.

Their mating would be good no matter what, but he wanted perfection. For her. Only for her. She had to want him as much as he wanted her. Since he had never taken a virgin to his bed before, he wasn't certain how long it would take to make her feel the way he did. He was determined to make her burn for fulfillment, to feel the intensity. He craved her.

He only hoped he had the stamina and the strength to hold back until she was ready. His hands shook and his actions were jerky as he tore the buttons open and peeled off his pants.

Taylor couldn't take her gaze away from his face. The smoldering look in his eyes made her heart flutter a wild beat. Every fiber in her body responded to him. The night air chilled her skin but the warm knot inside her was spreading down her middle, reaching the very core of her femininity. She wasn't covered with a nightgown or a blanket. She should have felt embarrassment. She didn't. She rested on her back on top of the rumpled sheets, staring up at her husband without any shyness at all.

The unknown did frighten her, and for that reason she didn't look below his chin. She'd seen Lucas naked before, but only his backside. She'd never seen the front of him.

Curiosity won out. She slowly lowered her gaze to his waist. She saw the dark hair springing free from the V in the opening of his pants, but then Lucas bent over to take his pants off and he blocked her view.

And then he was covering her once again. She tried to keep her legs together. He wouldn't let her. He used his knee to wedge his way between her thighs, and before she could move out of his way, he came down on top of her. He gathered her in his arms and held her tight. His hardness was pressed intimately against her pelvis. Pleasure warred with fear. He felt huge against her. Her mouth went dry. She tensed against him in trepidation. Her hands were fisted at her sides. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the inevitable pain.

A full minute passed and still he didn't move. The heat from his body began to help her relax. She started breathing again and opened her eyes.

Lucas braced himself up on his elbows and stared down at her. He gritted his teeth against the incredible surge of pleasure he felt pressed against her.

Taylor noticed only the tenderness in his eyes. She was suddenly overwhelmed by his gentleness. She reached up and stroked the side of his face. He leaned into her hand, then kissed her palm. A shudder of desire caught her by surprise. She wanted him to kiss her again, hard, on the mouth. She wanted him to use his tongue. She wanted…

"You may…"

She whispered the request and stared into his eyes while she waited for him to understand.

He leaned down and kissed her brow. "I may what?" he asked. His voice was as gritty as the sound of crushed leaves. It was incredibly arousing.

"You may kiss me again," she explained. She sounded breathless.

He slanted his mouth over hers and her lips parted.

His tongue swept inside, plundering, tasting, giving. Her hands went to the back of his neck and her fingers splayed upward into his silky hair. She never wanted him to leave her. Her tongue rubbed against his with a boldness that surprised both of them. And then the kiss took on an urgency that left them both desperate for more.

His hands moved down between their bodies. He stroked her breasts and then moved lower. His fingers circled her navel. She instinctively moved against him.

He shifted his position, his mouth sealed with hers all the while, and then his hand moved lower still until he found what he most wanted to touch. His fingers surged through the soft, curly hair between the junction of her thighs. He stroked the smooth petals shielding her virginity and then began to caress the kernel of desire he knew would drive her wild.

She would have screamed with the pleasure he gave her if she'd had the strength. She let out a low whimper instead. She couldn't stop herself from moving erotically against his hand. His fingers were magical.

The rhythmic motion of his fingers against her made her wild, wanton. She arched against him, demanding more. Her nails scraped his shoulders, and she softly moaned his name.

Her uninhibited response to him made him lose his own control. His actions were rough now, determined. He grabbed hold of a fistful of her hair, pulled her head back, and sealed her mouth with his. His tongue thrust into her mouth just as his finger penetrated her tight sheath. He could feel her wetness, and it drove him wild. She cried out against his mouth. He knew he was hurting her.

He eased his finger out and tried to soothe her with another drugging kiss. And then, before she realized his intent, his mouth replaced his fingers and he was kissing her there, stroking her with his tongue and his lips. The taste of her was intoxicating. She writhed against him even as she begged him to stop the blissful torture.

He wouldn't be deterred. He used his tongue to stroke the passion in her, and only when she was trembling and burning and pleading with him to come to her, did he at last make her completely his.

He knelt between her thighs but didn't immediately enter her. He took hold of her hands and placed them on his hard shaft. She let out a low moan. The deep guttural sound he made in the back of his throat, filled with raw pleasure, made her feel heady with power. She stroked him, squeezed him. Her finger brushed across the very tip. She felt the moisture there and leaned up to taste it with her mouth.

He almost came then and there. Her tongue flicked across the tip of his arousal and her sweet, soft lips closed around him. She started to suckle. Lucas's composure vanished. He didn't want to come in her mouth, not this time. He wanted to give her fulfillment first. Even if it killed him.

His movements became rougher now, more uncontrolled. He pushed her back against the sheets, lifted her hips up high on the front of his thighs, and when he was about to enter her, he demanded she look at him.

"We're a family now, Taylor. You're my family. Do you understand?"

She put her arms around him and drew him down to her. "Love me, Lucas. Please," she whispered.

And still he hesitated. "I understand," she said then.

"I'm going to hurt you. I'm sorry, baby. God, I'm sorry."

He kissed her then, long and hard. His tongue moved inside to mate with hers, and then he tried to slowly ease inside her tight sheath. It was agony. He wanted to be gentle. He couldn't. His body demanded completion, and he was powerless against the primitive instinct. Her permission had pushed him beyond control. He thrust deep, breaking her virginal barrier with one hard push, and he was finally planted solidly inside her. He captured her cry with his mouth, and though it didn't seem possible to him, he sank deeper inside her.

He was surrounded by her, caressed by her incredible tightness, flooded with such intense pleasure he thought he would die from it.

Taylor felt a searing pain and believed with all her heart that Lucas had just torn her apart. It hurt so much she started to cry. Yet within the space of a heartbeat, the pain began to lessen. A dull ache lingered, and when Lucas leaned down to kiss her tears away and whisper sweet lies about how beautiful she was, the pain was all but forgotten.

He wanted to give her time to adjust to him. The determination to hold back lasted less than a few seconds. She restlessly moved against him and began to stroke his shoulders. He rocked against her. Sensation after sensation flooded him. He slowly withdrew, then thrust back inside her. The rhythmic mating motions became more forceful, much quicker. Each time he sank back into her was better than the time before. He became mindless to everything but giving her fulfillment and finding his own. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck. He pulled her legs up to hold him around his hips. And then she began to move with him. She arched up when he pulled back, until the ritual became wild and wonderful and exhilarating. They moved in perfect harmony. With each thrust, he became harder, fuller. He knew he was about to climax. He wanted her to be there with him. He reached between their joined bodies and stroked the nub hidden between her velvety folds until she coiled all around him and cried out his name. Tremors racked her body. She chanted his name in the throes of her orgasm, and only then did he allow himself the freedom to gain his own. He surged forward again and poured his hot seed into her.

His ecstasy was so shattering and gratifying he thought he'd died and gone to heaven. His head fell down to the crook of her neck. He groaned low in his throat. His heart was slamming inside his chest, and he took several deep, gulping breaths. He felt weak and powerful at the same time. The contradiction didn't make any sense. It didn't need to, for reality had turned out to be much better than all the fantasies he'd had.

She'd given him perfection.

Taylor felt as though she'd just reached the stars and was now gently floating down to earth again. She had never known such passion was possible. It overwhelmed her, consumed her. She clung to her husband, feeling safe and protected in his strong arms, until her heart quit beating so erratically and she could draw a deep breath.

They lay complete and exhausted in each other's arms, each listening to the other's heartbeat for a long while. Lucas was the first to gather enough strength to move. He let out a loud groan and rolled to his side. He couldn't quite bring himself to let go of her though and so he took her with him. Her eyes were closed. He couldn't stop staring at her. She was so beautiful to him. She had incredibly long eyelashes. He'd never noticed before, but only because he'd been too occupied staring into her enchanting blue eyes. Her complexion was flawless and with a lovely golden hue. She was flawless, he decided then. His gaze turned to her mouth. She had full, pouting lips that could drive him to distraction. He couldn't leave them alone. He rubbed his thumb across the silky texture, then tilted her head back and kissed her, savoring once again the taste and the feel of her softness against him.

When he pulled back, she opened her eyes and looked at him. She was shaken by his gentleness. Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. Did he think the marriage act they had just shared had been as wonderful as she did? Had he been just as overwhelmed?

Madam had called it rutting. Taylor had believed her. She understood the truth now. It was anything but rutting. Loving Lucas had been pure and joyful and fulfilling, and it was surely the most wonderful experience of her life. She would always cherish the memory.

Lucas spotted the tears in her eyes and immediately became alarmed. "I couldn't help hurting you, sweetheart. Are you in pain now?"

She shook her head. She scooted closer to him and closed her eyes. "It was beautiful," she whispered.

He hugged her tight. He was arrogantly pleased with her admission. "It was, wasn't it?" He let out a loud yawn and then added, "It was perfect."

He fell asleep a few minutes later. He had a smile on his face.

It took Taylor much longer to relax. The afterglow was slow to leave but eventually reality returned. And with it came new worries, one on top of another. At the root of all her fears was the simple realization that she was in love with her husband. She was vulnerable now, and God, how that terrified her. She had three precious children dependent upon her. She couldn't afford to let her actions be ruled by her heart.

She needed to be strong. She repeated her determination over and over again while she got out of bed and went to wash. When she got back into bed, she stayed near the edge of the side of the bed so she wouldn't touch Lucas. She wanted to take hold of him and never let go. She fought the urge. God, how she wished she could lean on him and let him share a little of her burden. She didn't have any idea how she would ever be a good mother. She lacked all the necessary skills, or so she believed, and while she was growing up, she never even held a baby in her arms. Her experience was limited to speculation, and her terror was that she would do something so terribly wrong, the babies would be marred for life. And so would Davy Daniel, she realized. He needed more than simple comfort. He needed someone to help him understand his own value. Could she build up his self-esteem? Dear God, she didn't know how.

Oh, yes, she wanted to lean on Lucas and borrow some of his strength. She didn't dare. How easy it would be to let him take care of all of them. He was too noble to turn his back on her and the children. Still, it wouldn't be right or fair of her to ask. He didn't want to be married, and he certainly hadn't wanted a family. He was a loner who liked living that way. Besides, he'd done enough for her. More than enough, she thought. He could have walked away once they'd reached Boston, but he'd stayed on and searched for her nieces. He hadn't given up. Other men would have or gotten rid of the problem by handing it over to the authorities. Lucas had been as noble as a prince, and it wouldn't be honorable of her to become dependent on him. She had to stand on her own two feet. The children were her responsibility. Hers alone.

Was it wrong for her to want to live close to him? Redemption. Even the name signified a safe haven to her now. And Lucas Ross had become her safety net. She didn't want to trap him. No, of course she didn't. But the children came first and if they needed something, or if there were trouble she was having difficulty handling, she wanted to be able to turn to him for help. He could still go riding off into his mountains. It wasn't so uncommon to leave a wife behind. Daniel Boone left his wife all the time, sometimes for several years. According to the stories, Mrs. Boone never complained, and from the number of children she had, Taylor assumed Daniel came home every now and again;

Divorce. The word left a sour taste in her mouth. Yes, Daniel Boone had left his wife behind, but he always came back. He wanted a wife.

Lucas didn't. Taylor closed her eyes and tried not to cry. She owed her Prince Charming his freedom.

Lucas woke up on top of her again. It was a little before dawn, his usual time to wake up, but he was having trouble clearing his mind this morning. He thought he was having an erotic dream. He was nuzzling the side of her neck and rubbing against her, and what made the dream so real to him was the feel of her warm skin against him. She wasn't wearing any clothes. Neither was he. His hands cupped her breasts. Her nipples were hard pearls. He moved down and took one into his mouth. She let out a little moan and began to move restlessly against him. Her legs were entwined with his. He shifted so that he could kiss the other breast and as he began to suckle, his hands stroked a path down to span her narrow waist. Her stomach was flat, smooth, her skin silky against his fingertips. His hand moved lower. He caressed the tilt of her hip, then trailed his fingers down the smooth skin on the outside of her thigh. And then he stroked a hot path up the inside until he brushed against the dewy curls at the junction of her thighs. He caressed her with his fingertips, making circles around and around the nub of her desire, until she was moaning and writhing against him, and when at last he began to caress the very spot he knew would drive her wild, she arched upward and let out a cry of raw pleasure. He didn't stop his sweet torment until she was damp with desire and begging him with soft whimpers to come to her.

He wasn't certain if she was completely awake or not. It didn't matter. She touched his arousal when he moved between her legs, and he knew he would die if he didn't mate with her. He burned with the need to feel her tight walls surround him, squeeze him, milk him.

He wrapped her in his arms, covered her mouth with his, and then thrust deep inside her. He wasn't gentle, and only when he was planted solidly inside her and was flooded with intense, throbbing pleasure did he realize he was hurting her. He was too caught up in his own passion to translate any subtle messages.

She wasn't subtle. She pinched his shoulder and told him she was in pain.

He stilled his movements immediately. She tried to move away from him. He clenched his jaw against the incredible pleasure she inadvertently gave him. He couldn't bring himself to leave her, yet he knew he was going to. What in God's name was the matter with him? Of course she was sore. She'd been a virgin, and it hadn't even been a full day since he'd bedded her.

He took a deep breath, willing some strength back into his mind and his body and then started to pull back. She stopped his retreat by putting her legs around his hips and bringing him back.

His head dropped to her shoulder. "If you want me to leave you alone, you're going to have to let go of me."

Under the circumstances, he thought his explanation was damned reasonable and noble. Her response was to put her arms around his neck and kiss his earlobe.

"Lucas." She whispered his name like an enchantress.

She brushed her hand across his shoulder. She knew she was giving him mixed signals, and it was the fact that he would do whatever she asked him to do that made all the difference to her. She ached from the pain of his invasion, but there was pleasure as well, and she knew that soon, with his kisses and caresses, the pain would be forgotten.

"I don't want you to leave me," she whispered. "I just want… I want…"

He moved inside her. One slow, long stroke. She let out a low sigh. "This?" he asked.

"Yes."

His mouth covered hers then in a long, drugging kiss. He was determined to go slow. He was going to be gentle with her, even if it killed him.

His promise only lasted a minute or two. Once he started moving inside her again, she quickened the pace. The pain was forgotten, replaced with such incredible pleasure, she thought her heart would surely stop and she would die the sweetest of deaths.

She wasn't a passive lover. Lucas was shaken by her uninhibited responses. Her mouth was every bit as wild and wet as his was, and she stroked him with just as much loving curiosity. She found fulfillment before he did, and when she tightened all around him and cried out his name, he allowed his own release. They held each other close while tremor after tremor of passion consumed them. He collapsed on top of her. The scent of their lovemaking filled the air around them. It made him drowsy with satisfaction. He was still fully imbedded inside her. He couldn't bring himself to leave her just yet. He knew he should get up and act the part of a gentleman by fetching her a cool, wet cloth. He would play her lady's maid like any good husband would.

Just one more minute, he thought. Then he'd get up. Just one more minute…

He was snoring with contentment a second later.

Taylor was too content to move. She knew she should get up. She would go and get a washcloth to freshen herself and then put on a clean nightgown. She didn't know what time the babies or Davy Daniel would wake up, and she wasn't about to be caught in bed with Lucas without a stitch of clothing on. The possibility was too mortifying to even think about. Yes, she would get up. In one minute, she thought. She snuggled closer to her husband and let out a loud yawn. In just a minute…