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“Zane,” she whispered. “People are watching us.”
“Let them watch.”
He didn’t speak again until the fiddles struck up a reel and couples lined up opposite each other. He hated to let her go, but he enjoyed watching her from across the expanse of plank floor separating the line of dancers. Her cheeks were flushed and she was smiling across into his eyes. If he lived to be a hundred, he would remember this moment and the look on her face.
The lines advanced toward each other, bowed to their partners and then retreated. He and Winifred were the head couple. They met again in the center of the floor and he grasped her tight and swung her around and around, then released her. It was the last thing he wanted to do.
And when she danced again into the center and Thad MacAllister swung her, Zane shut his eyes. He wanted no man to lay his hands on her, not even his very married friend Thad. Primal male jealousy, he guessed. He might laugh at himself if he didn’t feel so possessive of the treasure that Winifred was. If he could be sure she was truly his and not the coveted darling of some music professor back East.
He wondered why he’d never been like this about Celeste. He knew he had loved her, but it had been a young love, one born of enchantment and losing his head. What he felt for Winifred was different. More gradual. More real.
And deeper.
That was why it was so important.
He lasted through the reel, four or five two-steps and another reel before he had to call it quits. It wasn’t his strength that was giving out, it was his capacity for torturing himself. She was so close, held in his arms, smiling up at him, her eyes soft, but still it wasn’t close enough.
One more slow waltz, he decided. Just one.
He very nearly didn’t make it to the end. His pulse wouldn’t calm down to a manageable rate; his groin ached so much he fought against dancing her outside and pressing her hard against his swollen member.
She rested her forehead against his shoulder, humming along with the fiddles as they sobbed their way through “Red River Valley.”
He jerked them to a stop. “Let’s go. I’m taking you home.”
Without a word, she nodded and went to gather up her lacy blue shawl. She stopped to speak to Sarah Cloudman and Leah MacAllister, then to admire Jericho and Maddie Silver’s one-year-old twins. Finally, finally, she returned to where Zane waited by the barn entrance. With a final smile and a wave, she took his arm and then they were outside in the soft autumn night.
The moon rose high, washing the road with silvery light and illuminating Winifred’s face. After a mile or so she scooted closer and laid her head on his shoulder.
He reined the horse to a halt and pulled her into his arms.
“Kiss me,” she whispered. She lifted her face.
They shared two of the most shattering kisses he’d ever experienced. He couldn’t tell who was trembling harder, Winifred or himself.
He lowered his mouth to the bare skin above the neckline of her dress and breathed in her scent. She moaned softly and he tore himself away and lifted the reins. It was time for everything he’d planned all these long weeks.
He drove the buggy around to the back of the house, unhitched the horse and fed it a handful of oats while Winifred lingered on the back stoop. Praying that Rosemarie was asleep in Sam and Yan Li’s room, he tiptoed in the back kitchen door, holding Winifred’s hand tight in his. He said nothing until they reached the top of the stairs, then he gently turned her to face him.
“I want you to stay with me tonight.”
She reached both arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Oh, Zane, I thought you would never ask.”
She slipped his top shirt button free, and with a stifled sound he scooped her up and kneed open his bedroom door. Setting her on her feet he reached behind her to turn the lock.
“Were we as scandalous at the dance tonight as I felt?” she murmured.
“Probably, yes. Do you care?”
“No. I felt idiotically happy all evening, dancing with you.”
He began undoing the buttons of her dress. They ran all down the front to her hemline, but when he reached those below her waist she skimmed the gown over her hips and let it drop to the floor.
“Scandalous,” she whispered. “Such a wonderful feeling.”
He pressed his lips to her temple, behind her ear, to the soft, fine skin of her neck, and her breathing stuttered. “Scanda—”
Zane laughed gently and caught Winifred’s mouth under his. Oh, mercy, she thought. He had never kissed her like this before. He urged her lips open and she suddenly felt hot all over, as if thousands of stars were dancing on her skin.
