She ended up in his arms anyway, with one hand cupping her butt, and the other exploring the smooth, warm skin under her shirt.He had one knee between her thighs, and her breasts pressed to his chest.His mouth was on hers.And her invitation became sorely tempting.
Except…
Except she didn’t know what to do with her hands.
Awareness of that detail hit like a douse of cold water, along with a truth.She was more innocent than she let on, despite her actions, and her talk of teaching men how to flirt.He remained unconvinced that she understood what flirting meant.Perhaps the spin she put on the word was accidental.
Anything further tonight—or any other night for that matter—would create nothing but problems.For her, even more so than him.
He suspected she knew that.It was likely her goal.She was Sheik Ali of Djitania’s sister, engaged to be married to a man the sheik had chosen for her, but who she didn’t want.Jayce was merely the cowboy filling in for the servant who’d ruined her in the narrative she’d drafted.He was her easy way out.
Yeah.He didn’t think so.
He untangled their limbs.
“Sleep tight, ma’am,” he said.
He made it as far as the trees, where he had to pause and give his protesting gonads a stern talking to, because they’d gone from unrest to outright rebellion, and they refused to believe he hadn’t just kicked them, himself.
*
Malika
Someone knocked onthe front door of the lodge before dawn.
Malika rolled over in bed, placed her pillow over her head, and ignored them.She’d been having sweet dreams about the handsome cowboy, and the fiery kiss that began with such promise but ended in disappointment.
The person knocking on her bedroom door was more difficult to ignore.
The bedroom door opened.Footsteps crossed the room, and someone threw back the drapes that covered the glass doors.Sunlight spilled in.
Malika blinked and sat up, rubbing her eyes.Perhaps the day was further along than she’d thought.
“Get up,” Mavis said.
“Come back this afternoon.”Malika flopped onto the mattress and pulled the blankets over her head to block out the blinding light.
Mavis, however, did not have a compassionate soul.She grabbed the blankets and yanked them to the foot of the bed.Malika hadn’t bothered to put on pajamas, in the hopes that Jayce might return, so the moment proved awkward, but only for her.
Her lack of pajamas didn’t appear to be a problem for Mavis, who opened the closet and pulled out an especially ugly, two-piece dress that Pearl had left for Malika, and Malika had ignored.The sturdy cotton fabric was muddy brown and sprinkled liberally with tiny white flowers.It looked like something a peasant might wear, not a fashionable French lady.Pearl called it a house dress.
Mavis tossed the bodice and skirt on the bed.
“Get up,” she repeated.“Get dressed.We can’t have a young woman living alone.You’ll move in with me until your brother returns.”
“But I’m already a ruined woman,” Malika protested.“What difference does it make if I live alone?”She’d planned to enjoy being ruined.How could she enjoy it if she lived with an old woman?
“You’re a penniless ruined woman who can’t afford to pay rent, and we can’t have you corrupting the impressionable youth of this town.You’ll find that westerners are much more forgiving of checkered pasts than easterners if you put it behind you,” Mavis said.
“I like my checkered past.”
“I’m fond of mine too.And once you reach my age, eastern or western, no one will give two hoots about it.But you have quite a few years to go until then, and you’ll need to learn other skills to keep you fed after you’re too old to be ruined.”
Malika tried to envision Mavis being ruined.She was gray-haired and stout at the waist.If she’d ever been pretty, it was so long ago that her face had forgotten.Her buckskin clothing and tall boots, plus the gun holster, spoke more of a woman who preferred other women than an ageingfemme fatale.
She was Belle’s grandmother, however, and since there’d been no mention of any husband, the possibility of a ruined youth existed, which meant her point might be valid.Malika hadn’t thought ahead to the years when men no longer cared to stare at her body and have her boss them about while they pleasured themselves.The market would dwindle as she aged, because men who enjoyed older women were not as abundant.There was no harm in learning other new, useful things for later in life.
“Can you show me how to make pies?”she asked Mavis.
